The 28th Hunger Games
by AddeGranger
Summary: For the 28th year, the districts of Panem have been asked to offer up one boy and one girl to compete in the annual Hunger Games. And this year, we've been promised the best games yet. Used to be The 28th Hunger Games: Let the Games Begin, an SYOT. Same tributes
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings viewers! I know it feels like forever since the 27****th**** Hunger Games, but I know the wait will have been worth it. The 28****th**** Hunger Games will be by far the best games we have ever had – this is a promise!**

**Well, now that is over, let's get to the good stuff. Let the games begin!**

The crowd of excited, anxious viewers gathered around the grand city square. An air of anticipation could be felt by all, and anyone could easily tell that this day had been long awaited. Kids from ages twelve to eighteen had been roped into sections and they were happily talking amongst themselves – all but the rare few who looked nervously back to their parents. Most of them, though, looked as if this was their dream come true. Their parents, too, looked exited and hopeful that their children would be chosen to honor them and their district in the annual Games.

When the Capitol lady flounced up to the stage, she was met by a roar of applause. She beamed at the citizens of District One like they were old friends. And in her mind they were. Martina Merriwether had been the escort for District One for twenty-two years now. Her purple hair was the same shade as it had been when she had started out escorting, and it had become her signature color. Over the years, she rotated shades of purple, and this year it was a dark royal purple, closer to blue. She had a blazer and pencil skirt of this hew and tresses of the same shade. Dark purple lipstick covered her lips, making them look almost frightening compared to her bright, white smile. This was the best day of the year for her.

"It warms my heart to be greeted in such a welcoming way even after all these years!" she cried out to the citizens. They cheered again.

"Now, let's get down to business. And as usual, ladies first!" she trilled. A huge glass bowl was wheeled up on a metal cart by a Peacekeeper. She dug her purple fingernails into the bowl, reaching the bottom of it, mixing up the slips of glossy paper real well before selecting one. Finally she pulled one out, taking her own sweet time before carefully pronouncing the girl's name.

"Karri Selkirk!"

Before the selected girl had a chance to react or even make herself known, another girl called out.

"I volunteer!"

Martina grinned. This was arguably her favorite part of the reapings – when people volunteered. The drama was simply thrilling!

The volunteer was a girl in the back of the crowd. All the other seventeen-year-olds around her turned her heads but looked away quickly when she fixed them with a cold stare. The girl was a tall, slender, slightly curvy girl with a look of determination and nastiness in her green eyes. She had thick auburn hair that formed a perfect bob, framing her face in nice contrast compared to her fair complexion. Light reflected off it in an almost unnatural way, making it look too good to be true – hair that couldn't be possible without some kind of treatment or extra nourishment. She looked quite pleased with herself, which could easily seen by the mischievous smirk plastered on her face.

"Lovely! Absolutely wonderful! Why don't you just come up and join me, my dear?" cried Martina, waving her hand in a beckoning motion. The girl was already half way through the crowd of people, though. When she reached her destination, she looked contentedly out at her district as if she had been waiting to be standing her for her whole life… which very well might have been true.

"Could you tell us your name?" Martina inquired.

"Dazzle Lazuli." She said this clearly and straightforwardly, with so much confidence that Martina squealed out loud.

"Just wonderful! Ooh, I can barely contain myself! Why don't we have a round of applause for this year's female tribute?"

The population of District One responded with wild cheering and clapping. When it died down, Martina continued on with her ceremony. "Let's go on to the boys, shall we?"

As the bowl of boys' names was brought up, Martina met the eyes of a boy also in the seventeens group. He looked very much like Dazzle, except without the malice and with a little less scorn in his eyes. He did, though, look quite determined. When he broke eye contact, he gave a glare to the girl on stage like she had just pushed him over some invisible line.

"Okay, boys. Your turn!" Doing the same thing she had with the girls, Martina dug her hand deep into the bowl and took a long time to select a slip of paper. She could hear the anxious whispers throughout the crowd as they waited for her to announce the name.

"Shane Shap-

"I volunteer!" someone called out before Martina had even finished reading the name. The voice sounded desperate, afraid that he would miss his chance. When Martina found who it was, she saw that it was the same boy; the one who she had seen glaring at Dazzle.

"Marvelous! Please come join us!" The boy pursed his lips in a way that made him look just a little regretful at first, but then resumed his look of determination identical to Dazzle's.

He had the same reflective auburn hair that was just long enough to look really stylish, and the same deep green eyes, though fashionable black glasses hid his. He had the same features, but his were a bit less defined. He was also the same height. He could only be Dazzle's brother.

"Please introduce yourself, darling!" If she had scored siblings, this could be the most interesting of her twenty-two years of mentoring.

"My name is Beryl Lazuli."

"Well, I'll bet anything that you are Dazzle's brother! Is that right?" Martina could barely contain herself she was so ecstatic.

"Yes, that's right." As he said this, he glanced over at his twin sister and looked her straight in the eyes. Dazzle returned the look with one of resentment. She mouthed, _you said you wouldn't,_ but Beryl pretended he hadn't seen.

"You wouldn't happen to be _twins_, would you?" asked the escort.

Dazzle took her turn in talking. "Of course, we're twins!" she said with slight annoyance in her voice.

"Isn't this exciting?" Martina asked the people in the crowd. They responded with cries of agreement and equal excitement. Martina took her place between the brother and sister and raised their hands high up in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District One, I present to you your tributes!"

Flaximus Motive bounded up the steps to his place on the stage. Looking out into the sea of people, he knew this would be an exciting year. All he could see were healthy, strong, eager people who were genuinely excited for him to be there. Several kids met his gaze, some even smiled at him, and he happily returned it. This was his first year escorting District Two, having just been promoted after six years of escorting tributes from District Ten, where no one smiled at him at all.

"Greetings, citizens of District Two! It is my pleasure and honor to be here in your lovely home. I look forward to many years of being with all of you and getting to know you and your district well!" Cheers were heard all around the city square. His smile grew to a full out beam. It felt good to be appreciated after all these years.

"Well, shall we get to the good stuff? Alrighty! Let's start with the girls!" He walked over to a glass ball on a stool to his right. He reached in and instantly pulled his hand back out with the first slip he had touched. He cleared his throat quite audibly and dramatically before unfolding the piece of paper.

"Kyra Livingston!" he said, pronouncing every syllable perfectly. Heads turned toward a tall girl standing in the seventeen-year-old section of children. She flushed, looking more like she had won an award than had been reaped. She nodded slightly and made her way up to the stage with graceful strides. When she reached it, she stood next to Flaximus and smiled a bit to the group of her district citizens.

She had a tan complexion and dark blonde hair that she had up in a braid on the top of her head. Her light hazel eyes sparkled a bit, making her look like she was going to say something very interesting and funny. Her dimples and the slight smile on her face made her look like someone you would want to get to know.

"Let's have a round of applause for our gorgeous female tribute!" said Flaximus, and the crowd did so enthusiastically. People seemed to be excited for Kyra to compete into the Games – and this seemed to be a good thing. People were smiling and whispering in approval to each other. Kyra seemed to be well liked in her district.

"And now for our boy!" Flaximus stuck his hand in the bowl of boy's names on his left side. Looking like he was excited to find out who the tribute would be, he chose quickly. He wasn't so dramatic in the unfolding of the slip this time, either. When he read it though, he did so just as theatrically.

"And the male tribute is," the crowd held its breath, "Marcus Kingston!"

A small cry from a girl somewhere in the crowd was heard. But nobody seemed to notice. Marcus Kingston, a thickly built boy of eighteen with coppery hair and pale brown eyes, didn't move for a moment. Actually, he seemed a bit confused at why people were looking at him. Then he seemed to process what had happened and smiled a bit like, _Yeah, cool. Sounds good._ He looked around at his peers and then progressed to take his place next to Kyra. When he got there, he reached over and shook her hand enthusiastically, which she returned gracefully and with a smile.

Flaximus took the opportunity to then wrap the ceremony. "Well isn't this just perfect? You two are already allies!" he joked, earning a laugh from the crowd. Then he turned around and flashed the people of District Two a bright white smile. "Let's hear it for this year's tributes!"

Being right in the middle of three career districts, District Three was very much contrasting to its neighbors. Though it was just as wealthy, it was not flashy, not too out there, and not well known for turning out victors. Surrounded by factories, it also wasn't as beautiful as some of the other districts. And the citizens of said district weren't thrilled about welcoming Claudiom Templeton, the colorful, loud Capitol man, to their home.

As he tripped up the stairs leading to his place on the makeshift metal stage, he tried to raise the level of excitement within the population, but it was futile. The ashen skinned, resentful-looking people stared blankly back up at him. All his presence meant was that two more of their district's children would leave and not come back. Still, the clumsy, obnoxious man pretended to like them and their home.

"It's so good to see you! I have looked forward to coming back to your, er, unique district since this day last year!"

He should have just stopped pretending. District Three was arguably the home of the smartest people in Panem. They saw right through him, needless to say.

Sensing that it was pointless to continue his false compliments, Claudiom sucked in his cheeks and said, "So, let's start with the girls." The people watching him didn't even react. Their stares simply told him without word that he needed to get this whole thing over with and then leave.

Trying to do so, he bounded over to the glass bowl containing the names of District Three's girls ages twelve to eighteen and promptly knocked it over, shattering it into millions of pieces and sending the slips of paper spilling everywhere. In an effort to shrug off his blunder (that was airing on live television, don't forget), he laughed out loud.

"Clumsy me! I'm always making a mess of things!" No one laughed. So, he just decided to continue on with the ceremony. "Would you mind handing me that piece of paper, child?" he asked a girl of about twelve, kneeling down on the edge of the stage and gesturing to a folded piece of creamy white paper that had fallen apart from the rest. When the child handed it to him, he stood up and straightened his stiff jacket, attempting to recapture his dignity. Without trying to make it anymore special – he had made it memorable enough already – he read the name out loud.

"Trillium Bither!"

Trillium Bither had been zoning out but when she heard her name called, her mouth dropped open and her brown eyes doubled in size. She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears nervously. She was obviously trying to be brave, but her efforts went to waste as she shuffled up through her friends and neighbors. A boy a bit younger then her - her brother - tried to reach out to her, as if to stop her, but she kept her head down until she reached her destination. At eighteen, she was pretty, but not extraordinarily beautiful. Her ashen skin matched that of most people in her district, and her wavy black hair fell about halfway down her back.

She kept her eyes straight ahead, like she knew she would lose the bit of control she had over herself if she met anybody's eyes.

"All right, time for the boys." Claudiom Templeton obviously wanted to get out of there as much as the residents of District Three wanted him to go.

He read the name with little energy. "Jeffry Beppler."

"Wait! I volunteer!" The boy's voice sounded desperate. Claudiom looked up, startled. He wondered if this was a brother, close cousin, or what other kind of person that would volunteer. He didn't get this too often.

The boy had already started towards the stage. "Uh, okay," said Claudiom. "Come on up," he added pointlessly.

The boy had practically jogged up to the stage; almost afraid someone would steal his spot. When he took his place on stage, he looked over at Trillium, who had a look of astonishment and a slight sadness on her face. When they locked eyes, it was clear the two knew each other well. Both were eighteen, resembling each other very much, but you could tell somehow that they weren't related. They seemed able to communicate without words. She looked like she was mentally protesting his decision and he looked like he was mentally reassuring her.

"What's your name, boy?" asked Claudiom tiredly.

"Baud Digit."

He flipped his messy black hair out of his eyes. He too had the signature ashen skin of his district and he had blue eyes. He had a look in his eyes that said he was doing a duty, and it had to be done whether he liked it or not.

Claudiom silently sighed in relief. This horrible thing was over. Before he could leave though, he was required to do one more thing.

"Okay, people of District Three, clap for your tributes." And with that, he exited the stage, but not without tripping on the steps.

_I hate my job_, he thought.

**All right, everyone! First three districts down! Hope you liked them! More will come soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you! Please enjoy **

**District 4**

The beach is the best place for any ceremony – just ask any District Four citizen. This was where they held all of their weddings, graduations, funerals, and of, course, reapings. Here, a stage was set up every year for the day that so many looked forward to. It was equal to any holiday in the eyes of everyone who lived there. Dressed in their best, the population of District Four gathered at the beach, which was bathed in mid-afternoon sunlight reflecting off the ocean. Just the way Hennrick Johansson liked it.

He was back for his sixth year of escorting tributes, and he liked it more every year. In his mind, there was nothing more entertaining than the Hunger Games. Some might assume that when he got to know the tributes that he would later have to watch die that he would find it a little less thrilling and a bit sadder, but in fact he thought that knowing the "contestants" made it all the more exciting. Hennrick was just lucky that he escorted a career district because any other district would hate him and his sick eagerness to watch their children die.

But they didn't hate him. In fact, as he stepped onto the stage, he was greeted happily with loud cheers and screams of delight. Hennrick ducked his head and raised his hand modestly, but he was actually enjoying the attention immensely. When he brought his head up his blue locks fell into his eyes and he brushed them away with his hand. His hair was really his crowning glory; long and the same color of blue as the ocean he stood before. This was the only oddly colored part of his body – the rest was perfectly normal other than his eyes. These were genetically enhanced to be the same bright blue as his hair. The overall effect was a bit frightening. To go along with the blue eyes and hair, he had a blue bowtie to go with his otherwise classic tuxedo.

"Thank you, thank you!" Here he inserted a quick bow for which District Four went wild. "Now, without further ado, let's proceed with our ceremony by all means!" He gracefully walked over to the already placed bowls of names and rather ungracefully stuck his hand into that which held the girls' names. When he pulled it out, he took a brief second to flash a dazzling smile out to the crowd before shouting the name of the girl.

"And our tribute is… Nixie Monroe!"

A round of half-hearted applause issued from the crowd. For some reason, everyone seemed slightly less enthusiastic all of a sudden. Nixie started to walk forward, but you could tell she was not as calm as she looked. She was breathing heavily as she parted the crowd, clenching and unclenching her fists. The ocean breeze blew her black curls around. Her clear blue eyes focused on the stage, not making eye contact with anyone of her peers or family members or anything.

"Wonderful," said Hennrick when she had taken her place next to him. "But Nixie, dear, I must say that you look familiar. You haven't been reaped before, have you?" The girl swallowed and nodded her head.

"Yes. When I was twelve. My sister volunteered." Her blue eyes shone with the threat of tears, but she clearly refused to look weak. The district was silent. They all remembered the girl, River, who, five years ago, had volunteered to take her sister's place. Now, five years later, the same girl had been reaped again.

"Well, now you will get you chance to shine!" said Hennrick enthusiastically. "Let's get a big hand for Miss Monroe, everyone!" People seemed to agree with what Hennrick had said. Regaining their eagerness, the population of District Four applauded wildly.

"And now for the boys!"

Hennrick plunged his hand into the bowl and dug around a bit, sticking out his tongue in concentration. "Triston Walterson!" he announced.

This time, as Triston Walterson had no tragic backstory, the people cheered. Triston, though, looked shocked and scared. He was tall at seventeen, almost 5'11, with a thin, wiry build. He had red hair and light blue eyes that nearly faded into his pale complexion. His expression was one of shock and fear, as he was one of the only seventeen-year-old boys in the whole district who hadn't spent his whole life training to be in the Hunger Games. As he started to make his way up to the stage, he looked around for someone, anyone, to volunteer. But no one did.

Hennrick must have noticed this too, as he said lightheartedly, "Not in the mood for volunteering today, are we? Well, no matter, we wouldn't want to rob these lucky tributes of their chance at the win would we?" By thus time, Triston was on the stage. Hennrick motioned for the two to shake hands, and they did so stiffly.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, here they are! Your tributes for this year! Happy Hunger Games." And with that, he ushered his new tributes off the stage.

**District 5**

Kellna Twill was nervous. She was also bad at hiding her emotions. So, everyone in District Five (and really, all of Panem) could see that she was a nervous wreck. For one thing, this was her very first year of escorting tributes. For another, the whole district was staring at her like they wanted her to do tricks or something. They looked so expectant, and somehow she knew she wouldn't please them. Not to mention she was about to cart off two innocent children to their deaths.

She hadn't chosen to be a Hunger Games escort. Her mother before her had been one, and also her grandmother. They had made the decision for her, and she knew she would do absolutely terribly.

She wore a pink bow in her blonde hair that made her look like a twenty-five year old schoolgirl and clashed horribly with her yellow bubble dress. Of course, colors like this were the height of fashion, but here in the power district, she stuck out like a sore thumb. When she took her place on the stage, she cleared her throat awkwardly and looked out at the crowd for a minute as if she hoped there would be some other person who would hop up and take her place. But, no. It was her job to carry out the ceremony. And carry it out she would.

The citizens of the district gathered about, most of them in fairly nice clothing, but many looking kind of pale and not exactly super muscular or athletic as a whole. Spending the majority of your time in a power plant will tend to do this to a person.

"Hi, everyone!" she said in a falsely peppy tone. "How are you all today?" A few of the younger children answered her, but for the most part people just stared back up at her silently like _is she for real?_

"Okay, then. I bet none of you are as excited as I am for the reaping!" Still, nothing. "Well, ladies, first then," Kellna said, finally realizing that she should just get on with it already.

When the peacekeeper wheeled up the first glass bowl of names, she rubbed her hands together in fake eagerness and daintily plucked a name out from the very top.

"And our female tribute is Estelle Caulder!"

A petite girl of fourteen let slip an audible gasp. She looked shocked, but even more shocked that people all around her were staring at her. Estelle had dark brown hair that she wore in a sleek ponytail and caramel-colored eyes, with a pale complexion and a slender frame. Kellna wouldn't have noticed her if people hadn't been staring at her. She was someone you could easily miss.

She glanced around and took a deep breath as she took tiny steps toward the stage. "Come along, dear," said Kellna, motioning for Estelle to move faster. Taking the hint, Estelle picked up her pace and reached the stage much more quickly. She took a long look at Kellna when she reached her as if she was trying to take in every single detail of her being. This clearly made the escort uncomfortable as she cleared her throat audibly and continued with her procedures in an overly excited manner.

"Okay, well, let's move on to the boys, shall we?"

When she had the slip in her hand, she took a brief moment to look around like she was checking for someone's approval, but since she was in charge this was a rather pointless and foolish thing to do.

"Edison Shultz!"

A tall, gawky boy of thirteen looked up abruptly and adjusted his thick black glasses. He blinked a few times and his already pale face went twice as pale. Beads of sweat formed on his face. As he walked towards the steps, he tripped and nearly fell to the ground, bringing about a few snickers from older boys in the crowd. He was wheezing and looked about ready to faint from fear.

On his way up, he looked pleadingly at a girl and a boy in the crowd, both older than him, but they only looked back at him sadly, and in the boy's case, guiltily.

When he took his place next to Estelle, he took one look at her and started blinking furiously and adjusting his glasses. He looked down at his shoes awkwardly like he was mentally willing the entire population of his district to just disappear.

"Um, okay, why don't you just shake hands?" They did, but not before Edison could push his glasses up his nose and twitch a little bit.

A boy from the crowd catcalled. Edison's face reddened and Estelle glared in the direction of the rude boy.

"Well," said Kellna, "thank you, District Five!" More quietly she added, "Come along, children." With that, District Five's twenty-eighth reaping was over.

**District 6**

District Six was not the most well known district for winning the Hunger Games. Though the transportation district was not necessarily a poor district compared to some of the others, their tributes rarely made it out alive… and when they did, they often succumbed to morphling use and completely lost it.

Even though the district was filled with trains, automobiles, boats, and airplanes, its residents rarely left its borders. Oddly enough, traveling in the transportation devices they spent their lives making was not high on their priority lists.

For the second year, Christophe Macklewayne was back to escort their district's children to the Capitol. He wore a metallic silver suit that quite resembled aluminum foil with dramatically curled black hair. Black liner coated his eyes and, to be perfectly honest, made him look like a raccoon. He walked up to the microphone and took a little bow before he started talking. He obviously overestimated the "relationship" he had with the citizens of District Six.

The town square was located directly between two train stations. A few miles away from the center of town was where the factories were located. Here, people of District Six spent day after day assembling cars, boats, and so on. But between the stations was a big, paved square with a makeshift metal stage in the front. The district's population gathered around in a large group. The children stood in groups of ages, and their families stood in huddles, talking to each other apprehensively.

"Welcome, welcome. Ah, I just love reaping day, don't you? It's definitely my favorite holiday," said Christophe. He took a moment to sigh wishfully, probably imagining a grand celebration back in the Capitol. "Well, I shouldn't dawdle so much! I know you want to know who your tributes will be this year – wouldn't want to keep you in suspense too long!"

With a big, dramatic gesture, he signaled for the bowls of names to be brought in. As the Peacekeepers did so, he walked around the stage, trying to be charismatic and charming by winking at people and blowing kisses, but needless to say, this came off as rather obnoxious.

"Alright! Time to pick our lucky lady!" He selected a name. "And that lucky lady is Thalia Skyware!"

Heads turned toward a seventeen-year-old girl in the middle of the crowd. She looked calm and controlled even though she had just been practically sentenced to death. Thalia had thin blonde hair that blew around her shoulders in the breeze as she walked towards the stage, and her eyes were a deep shade of brown. She wasn't extraordinarily tall, but not particularly short either. Her build was slender but not outrageously thin. Just average. She looked confident as she walked.

"I bet you are just so excited! Oh, the exhilaration!" exclaimed Christophe. "Congratulations, Miss Skyware! I look forward to accompanying you on your journey from this day onward." Thalia stared at him, unsure of how to respond to this.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I simply must know who our boy will be now. Let's go ahead and find out!" He practically danced over to the bowl of boy's names. The people of District Six felt so uncomfortable watching him that some had to look away from the stage.

"And the boy who in fortunate enough to be this year's tribute is," he paused, probably waiting for a drumroll, "Peter Krow!"

A mother cried out, and people looked toward a small boy in the very front row of the crowd. He was squinting through thick glasses, so you could barely see the color of his bright green eyes. He had dark brown hair that was closely cut to his head. Peter looked back in the direction of the woman who cried out and tried to go back in her direction, but some of the other kids stopped him and turned him back around toward the stage. Feeling and looking completely helpless, the twelve-year-old made his way meekly toward the stage. Behind the thick lenses of his glasses, his eyes began to fill with tears.

"Oh my, oh my! I can't contain myself! This has been just the best day! I know we all look forward to the start of the games! I'll see you next year. And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

**Well, that's it, folks. Hope you liked it!**

**Your head gamemaker, **

**AddeGranger**


	3. Chapter 3

**Greetings Viewers! Well, this is crazy, but I don't actually have any announcements to make this week. Wow. That's weird.**

**I guess I'll take my allotted announcement-making time to give a shout out to all the people who submitted tributes, whether or not I picked them. It meant a lot, really, that my first SYOT got such a good response. I also would like to thank readers, if there are any, who didn't submit anything, because it's the readers who make the stories successful **

**Okay, that's about how much time I usually spend making announcements. Enjoy the third section of reapings!**

**District 7**

It rained that day in District Seven. Soggy leaves covered the ground, and the areas that weren't protected by the dense forests were dotted with puddles. The town square was one of these areas. The citizens of the district splashed through puddles, most of them donning raincoats and boots that covered up their reaping clothes.

District Seven's escort, Mona Merriwether, didn't like the rain at all. As she climbed the steps to her place on the wooden stage, she looked down at herself and hated the world for making her cover up her fashionable purple pantsuit. She and her older sister, Martina, both wore purple every year, but of course her sister got lovely weather in her district. Mona sighed, feeling exceptionally sorry for herself. The purple raincoat just didn't have the same effect as the pantsuit. Plus, the shade was wrong. She was doing lavender that year, and her raincoat was eggplant. The rain made her purple makeup begin to run down her face a little bit. Unfortunately for her, she didn't notice this until much later.

As she shared her sister's enthusiasm for the Hunger Games, she was bubbly even though she was bitter about the rain. This was her second year in district Seven; she had been promoted after six years with District Eleven, two years with Ten, and three years with Eight.

"Oh, isn't this just wonderful? I'm touched that you would all come out here even though the weather is bad. I live your district and your trees! Even though it's not quite as nice as the Capitol, it's kind of close." People in the crowd looked around at each other, wondering whether or not this was meant as a compliment. "Let's get on with our ceremony, shall we?" said Mona. And without further ado, she selected a name before the ink on the paper ran together so much you couldn't read it.

She cleared her throat. "Maple Scarsi! Where are you, dear?"

If Mona had been expecting a raised hand to give away her location, she got nothing of the kind. The girl, Maple, shook her head slowly in disbelief. She looked like she was fighting with herself, trying to force herself not to believe what was happening. Another girl next to her shoved her gently to try to her to move, but she either couldn't or wouldn't. Denial was written all over her gaunt face. Her hazel eyes had dark circles around them even though she was only fifteen. The rain had plastered her dark brown hair to her face. Eventually, she started to make her ay forward in a robot-like fashion. When she walked, you could really see her unhealthy-looking thinness; the poor girl looked like she hadn't eaten in a week.

"Can we get a round of applause for out female tribute?" cried Mona. District Seven clapped, and Maple responded with another disbelieving shake of her head. Her face showed no emotion, just blank denial. Mona either didn't notice this or just didn't care about the girl's obvious terror, since she had moved on to the boys. The rain was causing her to speed up her usual dramatic ceremonial traditions.

When she unfolded the thick piece of paper, Mona squinted and began to look nervous. She beckoned a Peacekeeper over. After whispering to him in earnest for a moment, the white-uniformed man raced off, and came back moments later with the mayor of the district. Mona showed him the paper, and he looked puzzled. Then he waved his hand dismissively toward the bowl.

"So sorry for that, my dear citizens to District Seven! It seems the ink had bled together, and I am unable to read the name of this unfortunate boy. So sorry to whoever's opportunity to take part in the Games has been ruined. I'll just pick another."

"Don't bother. I volunteer!" said a deep, menacing voice from amidst the crowd. A boy of medium height stepped forward. Kids surrounding him looked away nervously when they caught his eyes – which were two different colors. With one blue and one black eye, his menacing glare looked twice as threatening. His dark hair stuck down to his tan face. He wore a black leather jacket even though it was pouring out.

He made Mona nervous. He made everyone nervous.

"My name is Ajax Ryffs," he said darkly before Mona had the chance to happily ask him. He began to walk forward, and the crowd parted for him. People seemed to know him, and to stay away from him.

"Thank you very much, Ajax! Can we get a nice big round of applause for…" She was cut off by a glare from Ajax. Evidently, he didn't want any applause. He also silenced some of the younger children who had started to clap with the same scary look.

"Well," began Mona, who looked a bit shaken up by her new tribute, "it looks like the end of our ceremony has come. Once again, I thank you for coming out in the horrid rain, and I wish you a happy Hunger Games! See you next year!"

**District Eight**

The reapings were not looked forward to in District Eight. Their tributes rarely had much success, seeing as they spent all their time learning how to produce textiles, make things out of textiles, and/or sell textiles. Unless they were going to sew their opponents to death, they usually weren't too prepared for the Hunger Games. Of course, there were the rare few tributes that did actually did come home to take their place as victors, but this hadn't happened in several years.

The feeling of defeat hung in the air as the residents of District Eight gathered around the town square. Here, there was no stage, like the people were trying to prove that they wouldn't go along with what the Capitol wanted. It had always been like that in District Eight, like there was a hint of rebellion to go along with the ominous feeling of defeat. So, there were no stairs for Bartimus Louve to mount and no place on stage for him to take. The Capitol man wasn't used to such bad treatment. He also wasn't used to such a cold welcome. He had just been demoted from working as the escort for the District Two kids. It gave him chest pains to see that idiot, Flaximus Motive, escorting _his_ district. And he'd already heard this year's girl was golden. Kyra something… He couldn't remember. All he knew is that he should be there, and Flaximus should be back in District Ten where he belonged.

You do one little thing and, BOOM, you're gone, he thought. What is this country coming too? For a moment, he just stood in the middle of the unhappy-looking people and wallowed in self-pity as he straightened his polka-dotted bowtie and adjusted his velvet suspenders. (The suspenders matched his pants and shirt, mind you.) His hair was slicked back, and it had so much gel in it that his hair looked soaking wet.

Fixing District Eight a scornful glare, he began his ceremony. "Hi, people. I'm here to be your escort, blah, blah, blah. Some of you might recognize me from previous years, as I was the escort for District Two for almost twenty years. A word of advice, people, don't make those people up in the Capitol angry. They'll ruin your whole life!" People looked around uncomfortably. "So yeah, now I'm here with you people. Isn't that wonderful?" You could almost feel the sarcasm.

"Well, I guess we should move along then. But I'm gonna shake it up a little. Let's start with the boys, shall we?" He looked around, but there was no bowl of name for him to choose from. "Hey, people? I'm gonna need those names. Today would be nice."

An embarrassed-looking Peacekeeper ran forward with the glass bowl. "Sorry," he mumbled as he held out the bowl. Bartimus only responded with a passive-aggressive mutter of, "In, District Two, they actually have a system." He roughly stuck his arm into the pool of boy's names and pulled one out from the very bottom with some difficulty. The piece of paper evidently didn't want to get out of the bowl; it stuck to the bottom so that Bartimus had to scrape his fingernails along the glass, which created a rather horrible sound.

"Trek Donovan!" he said less than enthusiastically.

Trek, a tall, seventeen-year-old boy with thick dark brown hair and dazzling brown eyes, took a moment to register what was happening before taking a deep, calm breath and walking forward to stand next to Bartimus. As he went, he looked around and smiled at people charmingly like every single person there was an old friend of his. He was strong, but not insanely muscular. When he reached his place to stand, he looked directly into one of the many cameras and winked. Many of the teenage girls in the crowd sighed longingly, and he looked in their general direction and gave them a brilliantly gorgeous smile.

"Okay, kid, cool it," said Bartimus. "Let's move on to the ladies." This time, the Peacekeeper was ready, armed with a bowl of girls' names. He picked one from the very top this time.

"Pique Bales!"

Scared was not even close to describing how Pique Bales looked at that moment. Pique was fifteen years old, with light brown hair that stuck out in various places, and round chocolate brown eyes. Her skin was very pale, even more so now that she was so terrified. She inhaled sharply, turning around to look pleadingly in the direction of where parents and older family members stood. When she turned back, tears were flowing silently down her face and her thin frame was shaking. Without a sound, she started walking towards Bartimus and Trek, constantly looking over her shoulder at various locations in the crowd. When she had almost reached the front of the group of people, a scream pierced the air. A little girl of seven years had begun to push her way through the mass of people. "No!" she screamed. "Don't go! You can't go with that man!" Oddly enough, no one stopped her. The girl made it almost to her sister when a girl who looked a lot like Pique, only older, picked her up and tried to calm her down. "Shh," she whispered. "Faille, I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do." She couldn't tell her it would be okay, though. This would be a lie.

This event only made Pique cry more. When she had almost broken though the crowd, another look-alike of hers reached out and grabbed her arm. This one was younger, but a copy of the other two. She too was crying. Pique just shook her head and continued walking. She had to leave her sisters behind – all of them.

"Stop crying, kid," said Bartimus when she had taken her place beside Trek. Though it sounded insensitive, he was trying to help her. Crying would make her look weak, and suddenly he didn't want to see this girl die.

Because one thing they had here that the certainly didn't have in District Two was the kind of family love he had just witnessed.

"Shake hands, you two," he grunted. Instead, Trek reached over and wiped away Pique's tears with his thumb, and then took her hand in his. Slowly, he raised their hands over their heads.

"Um, okay?" said Bartimus questioningly. "I guess you have your tributes, District Eight."

**District Nine**

You wouldn't expect to find a large crowd of people and a metal stage right between two fields of barley, but there they were. This had been the location for every reaping ceremony District Nine had had in the past twenty-seven years, and just because the snooty Capitol man didn't like it, they were not going to move it. Unlike many other districts, District Nine's stage was permanently built; nailed into the ground. So, this was why Maxwell Zane was trying to scrape manure off of his brand new loafers. He was forced, every year, to walk trough that stupid barely field every year, and every year, his shoes were ruined.

Other than that, he liked his job. He liked the tributes from District Nine most years, even if they disappointed him in the Arena. They were usually good kids – didn't talk back and usually didn't complain too much bout their upcoming deaths.

"Hello, my lovely citizens of District Nine! The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and two of you lucky youngsters get to come with me today and see my home, the Capitol! Who could ask for anything better?" There was an awkward silence that Maxwell didn't seem to hear. "I just love your district. Even if I do have to walk through the droppings of your horses to get to the stage!" He laughed at his own joke. "Bu seriously, I bet you're dying from suspense. Let's start the reapings!" At a snap of his fingers, a stool was brought out, and on it were the names of all the eligible girls in District Nine. Maxwell closed his eyes and scrunched up his face as he stuck his thumb and pointer finger in and daintily selected one name.

He cleared his throat. "Alora Halo!"

Standing with the other fifteen-year-old girls was one with darkly tanned skin and long dark brow hair. She stood at 5'7". Her pale lips were pursed and her blue eyes stared straight ahead as she silently walked forward. She was one of the rare few whose efforts of looking brave succeeded. She carried herself with a look of confidence and held her head up high.

"Would you look at her folks? We've got a good one here!" Maxwell Zane looked genuinely pleased with his newest tribute, like he was excited to show her off to all the other escorts. Alora stood in the designated spot for the female tributes, and gave a slight smile to the Capitol man. "Splendid! Just splendid! Now, shall we see if our male tribute is a match for our lovely lady?" He gestured for the crowd to applaud, and they did so.

With the same delicateness as the first time, Maxwell plucked a name from the glass bowl.

"Roman Moreau! Where is Roman Moreau?"

He was standing in the crowd, but somehow he looked separated from al the other fourteen-year-olds he was surrounded by. When he heard his name, he brushed his light brown hair out of his eyes and blinked his hazel eyes a few times. One his way up to the stage, he didn't really show any emotion. Not bravery, not fear or sadness. He did though, turn his head around and look sadly in the direction of the families. When he didn't see who he was looking

This didn't seem to work for Maxwell, though, because as soon as Roman got up the steps he said, "Come on, my boy, let's have a smile! After all, this is the best day of your life!" Roman looked at him quizzically, but he gave a brief, bright white smile. It was a really beautiful smile, and it changed his entire face from melancholy and sad to youthful and handsome.

"So much better! Isn't that right, people?" No one agreed with him. Maxwell didn't notice, as he was used to people not answering him. "Let's get a round of applause for Mr. Moreau!"

"Well, I don't think I could have gotten a better pair of tributes! Shake hands, you two!" Roman was looking out towards the families again, but this time he had found who he was looking for. He gave a sad little wave to a little girl sitting on her father's shoulders, who had tears streaming down her face as she waved back. Roman then realized that everyone was looking at him and quickly grabbed Alora's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Okay, my dear people of District Nine! Once again, this has been delightful! I'll see you next year!" He started to usher his two new tributes down the stairs when he forgot something and ran back to the microphone.

"I almost forgot! May the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

**Alrighty then, citizens of Panem! Three out of four reapings down! See you soon!**

**Leave a review to let me know what you think! **

**Your Head Gamemaker**


	4. Chapter 4

**Greetings, Viewers! I have two announcements to make, both important. **

**The first announcement is that I have decided that the training sessions will be open to viewers, and will be broadcast following the Opening Ceremonies. This will be an excellent opportunity for viewers and sponsors alike to start picking what tributes they will root for, and to see what our tributes this year have to offer.**

**Now, please enjoy the final section of reapings!**

**Your head gamemaker**

**District 10**

Manure. Hay. Horses. These are but some of the aromas that met the nose of Ms. Myra Hackleton as she walked to her usual spot on the wobbly metal stage in the center of District Ten. Wrinkling her nose (which was nothing like her original nose, as she had had over seven alterations on her nose and the rest of her face), she made a face and tried to no avail to waft the smelly air away from her. Her face barely moved, since most of it was plastic. Not to mention her whole body was dyed a pale shade of blue, and tattoos of white puffy clouds covered her arms. She stuck out like a sore thumb, especially since the sky was covered with accumulating clouds that threatened rain.

With a smile that looked a lot more like a grimace, she faced her audience of citizens and said, "Welcome, welcome. Once again, I am here to select a lucky pair to accompany me to the Capitol." She paused for applause, but the tiny bit she received was weak and unenthusiastic. This fact was ignored and she moved on. "Without further ado," she said tightly, "I will now select the female tribute. Cross your fingers!"

Not being one for long, elaborate speeches (probably because it took a lot of effort to move her lips after all that surgery), she paraded over to the left side of the stage, but the Peacekeepers had been expecting more of a speech, so the bowl was not yet placed. Taking this opportunity to observe her surroundings, she took a good look at the people gathered around her. Most wore limp, dingy clothing in drab colors, and the looks on their faces matched the dreariness of their clothing. Many carried the look of perpetual hunger, with gaunt, lifeless faces and empty eyes. Myra found it disgusting that people had such poor personal hygiene.

By this time, the Peacekeeper had brought the glass bowl of names to Myra's side. "Thank you," she said with a tight-lipped smile. She stuck her manicured hand into the bowl and closed her eyes while she dug her talon-like fingers around. Nearly thirty seconds later, she gingerly pulled her hand out with a creamy white piece of paper in it.

"He-hem," she cleared her throat. The district held its breath.

"Felicity Troven!"

A fourteen-year-old girl fit the exact description of the average District Ten citizen. Her short, thin frame radiated the look of hunger and she wore a blue cotton dress that was much too short for her and much too hot for the summer heat. Two horizontal scars stood out on her thin face, and as Feli quietly walked forward, Myra had the sudden urge to go to a plastic surgeon when she saw them. Felicity remained composed, but she looked shaky as she progressed slowly forward. People who met her eyes gave her sympathetic looks, and she returned them with nods of gratitude.

On stage, Felicity looked horribly small, frail and colorless compared to Myra. It was pitiful. But Myra didn't seem to notice, as she carried herself gracefully over to a second Peacekeeper who was standing on the right side of the stage, ready for her selection. She took an equally long time choosing a boy tribute. Her tongue poked out between her blue lips in concentration as she did so.

Before Myra could announce the name of the "lucky" boy, a rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. "Looks like District Eight's rain is heading towards us now. We'd better hurry up." As she said this, the first few drops of rain splattered on the ground.

"And our male tribute is Mr. Angus Northup," she said with almost no enthusiasm.

The male tribute was also fourteen. He too was short for his age and had a wiry frame that was exaggerated by another example of starvation. His shaggy light brown hair fell into his bright blue eyes that were full of fear. He seemed more terrified of all the people staring at him than of the prospect of entering the Arena. He looked scared of all the eyes on him, and confused. It looked like, even though he was fiercely trying, he just couldn't figure out what was going on or why everyone was staring at him.

A girl of about fifteen pushed her way through the crowd and put her arms around Angus' shoulders. She whispered into his ear, and started to guide him towards the stage, but she only went with him a little bit. With tears in her eyes, she watched him go – and glared fiercely at anyone who showed the slightest sign of laughing at her cousin.

When Angus had reached the stage, he took in a sharp breath when he saw Myra and her blueness. He looked more terrified then before, but no one volunteered for him. They just watched him stand there.

**District 11**

The people of District Eleven were strong - both mentally and physically. Long hours of hard work in the fields of their district paid off, and despite the fact that most of them led a life of constant starvation, the majority of them had muscular builds and strong looking bodies. They all remained calm and sullen as Greggor Travis smiled jubilantly out at them. Greggor was a young man, only twenty-four, and he certainly acted that way. He wore a red tuxedo and black dress shoes, a black bowtie, and had his crimson-colored hair slicked back. To go with the red, he had red lipstick and red eye shadow that made him look like he was bleeding.

In contrast, his teeth were blindingly white, and they shone as he beamed at the people he liked to call his "dear friends." This was only his fourth year being an escort, but he loved it more than words can say.

The summer sun shone down on the fields, and the people standing around them. Had someone touched the metal stage that Greggor stood on, they would have suffered serious burns. Nonetheless, hundreds of people stood resentfully, waiting to find out which two children would never come home. Apparently, the suspense of finding out who these two would be was just too much for Greggor. He started the ceremony before everyone had even filed into the town square.

"It's a joy to be back here in District Eleven, it really is. I want each and every one of you to know that I think of each one of you as a close, personal friend of mine, and you will all have a special place in my heart, even after I get promoted to a better district than yours. So, shall we pick our tributes? The suspense is simply killing me, people! Don't you agree?" He held his microphone out to the audience to make their nonexistent reply to his question louder. "Okay then! A little quiet today, are we? No problem, I can work with quiet. So, I'll move on to the actual reapings. Sound good?"

Right next to him were the two bowls of names, so he didn't even have to move to get to them. Instead of one at a time, he stuck his hands into both bowls at the same time and pulled out two names. He read the female one first.

"Mirabella Swathe! Come on up, girl!" The dark skinned twelve-year-old girl in the front of the crowd gasped and started to cry, but she stopped when someone farther back called out clearly.

"I volunteer as tribute!" said the older girl. She stepped forward, and her intimidating athletic figure had its immediate effect. She had long blonde hair and dark brown eyes, and skin tan from working in the sun all day for most of her seventeen years.

"How exciting!" exclaimed Greggor. "District Eleven hasn't had a volunteer for years! This is wonderful, just marvelous! What's your name, young lady?"

Even though she was only halfway through the crowd of people, she called back in a loud, confident voice, "Tatiana Harris, but that probably could have waited until I got to the stage, don't you think?"

"We've got a sassy one here, haven't we? Well, that's just the way I like 'em!" By this time, Tatiana had joined Greggor on stage and she rolled her eyes at her escort. "You don't happen to be related to young Mirabella, do you?"

"Do we look related?" This silenced even Greggor, but he resumed his smile soon after this snarky retort.

"Well," said Greggor, "that was exciting! Shall we move on to the boys?" He looked at Tatiana, as if checking for her approval, and she gestured to him as if to say, _By all means, carry on._ Greggor did so happily. Having already picked a piece of paper, he simply unfolded it and announced the name.

"Caleb Wilks!"

The eighteen-year-old looked around desperately, and the sounds of a girl crying could be easily heard. Caleb met the eyes of a boy standing a few feet away from him, and his look clearly said, _Please help me. I'll do anything, just help me. _The boy, with a look of determination said, "I volunteer."

A collective gasp echoed through District Eleven. Walking quickly, the boy walked forward. He was seventeen years old, with the dark skin so common in his district and closely cropped black hair. He was strong, broad shouldered, and tall. As he strode forward, his squared jaw was set, and he kept his eyes straight.

"I don't think this has ever happened before in District Eleven! Two volunteers! This is magnificent! Divine! Truly wonderful!" cried Greggor, who was nearly dancing around the stage he was so ecstatic.

"What's your name son?" he inquired.

"Rain Fields."

"Shake hands, my brilliant tributes," he said, and the two did, neither with a smile.

"Well, I must say, this might have been the most exhilarating day of my life. I look forward to next year immensely! Happy Hunger Games!"

**District Twelve**

"Ah, District Twelve! Good to see you all again! It feels like last year was millennia ago, doesn't it? Oh, I feel like it does," said Bathilda Dobbs. Her yellow (not, blonde, we're talking neon yellow) hair, bounced as she walked across the stage. Her dress matched her hair, and since she was very fat, there was a lot of neon yellow on her. The effect was enough to give you a headache.

District Twelve's population all fit in the pitiful excise for a "town." The stores were dull and beaten looking, everything was coated in coal dust, and there wasn't even a flower garden to lighten the mood. The whole place gave off a feeling of hopelessness and depression.

The people weren't much better. They all were slouching, and expect for the occasional few, they were all wearing terribly ugly clothes. Bathilda really hated this district, but it was the only one available, so she took it.

Not knowing what else to say to these boring people, she decided to hurry alone with the reapings. "Okay, shall he begin with the ladies?" She waddled over to the bowl of names and stuck her yellow fingers into the pool of girls' names.

"Nicolette Carter!" she said in her high-pitched voice.

A girl with long wavy black hair and tan skin blinked her hazel eyes in a shocked way. At sixteen, she was very pretty. She looked like she'd been punched in the gut. Remembering she was on camera though, she composed herself and walked forward quickly. She even managed a shy smile to the cameras when she reached the stage. Bathilda patted her back and said, "Congratulations, child. Okay, let's move on." Under her breath she added, "So I can get out of here as soon as possible."

She plucked a name from the top of the bowl of boys' names. "Licorich Sweeney!" she declared.

Licorich Sweeney was dressed quite a bit nicer than his peers. He wore a crisp white shirt and khaki slacks, topped off with what was obviously a fresh haircut. He wasn't necessarily tall, but by no means was he short. He had light blond hair and pale blue eyes; the typical look of townspeople in District Twelve. Bathilda automatically liked him best. Despite all this, he was only twelve years old, and his nice clothes and hair seemed out of place on him when his blue eyes grew wide with pure fear. This made him look like a lost child who only wanted to go home to his mother.

He tried to look solemn, but he was obviously was blinking back tears. When he climbed the steps, he tripped and fell, and Nicolette rushed forward to help him up. She put her arm around him and led him to his place next to Bathilda.

Not moved at all by this display of kindness, Bathilda Dobbs said irritably, "Okay people of District Twelve, clap for your tributes." They did so reluctantly, but everyone was clearly sad to see a twelve-year-old reaped.

Bathilda sighed to herself, relieved that she could finally leave this horrid place. She had been here for all of thirty minutes, and she already felt like she was going to explode.

She turned to leave, forgetting to usher her tributes along with her or even to say "Happy Hunger Games."

**All right, viewers! That's it! The reapings are complete! Hope you liked them! Leave a review to let me know what you think. Next chapter will be up soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello, citizens of Pamen. My name is Posy Amberoid, and I have the pleasure, once again, to be your announcer for this year's games. I will offer commentary about tributes both in the pre-Arena stage (chariots rides, interviews, and training), and during the actual games. Tonight, the games will begin with the Opening Ceremonies, and – oh look! Here comes District One now!_

The great ivory doors of the training center opened wide and the glorious golden chariot of District One emerged. Two magnificent white horsed trotted along in front, decked out in diamonds and rubies. However, they were nothing compared to the tributes who rode behind them. The siblings' pale skin was covered in shimmery gold dust, which made them shine brightly in the glowing lights of the city circle. Dazzle's auburn hair was slightly curled, and her head was topped with a jeweled headdress. The same jewels adorned her simple, elegant dress that showed off her curvy, fit body. The simplicity made her look strangely menacing. On her feet were golden pumps, also covered in tiny jewels. Her green eyes were outlined in thick eyeliner, contrasting greatly with her shimmering skin. On the corners of her eyes were small emeralds. Her face showed no emotion at all; she just stared coldly ahead, not looking at either the crowd or her brother.

In contrast, Beryl was all smiles. His skin was also coated in gold dust, but for him it made a bit more of an impression since he was smiling. He seemed to glow warmly, and instead of looking menacing like his sister beside him. He wore black slacks, and a golden sport coat covered in jewels identical to Dazzle's. Under this, he wore an un-tucked silky gold shirt. He too had a thick coating of eyeliner, but there were no emeralds next to his eyes. Looking out into the crowd, he waved happily and smiled a winning smile. People went crazy for them; they were the first set of twins to compete in the Games ever. They seemed totally in sync, like they knew what the other was doing without even looking at each other. To complete the "twins" effect, Beryl and Dazzle linked pinkies.

_Well! That Dazzle certainly is certainly and intimidating one isn't she? I sure would want to get in her way! I can see her being a significant player in these Games. And her brother isn't one to rule out, either. He seems quite confident out there. Of course, since these two are both volunteers from District One, we can expect they have been training for this their whole lives. Now, I don't think we have ever had siblings – let alone twins – ever. I can't wait to see how this turns out._

District Two came rolling out close behind its District One. They too were pulled by white horses, but these were not decorated. The two tributes on the chariot, though, made up for this. They both waved in a jovial fashion, looking like there was nowhere they would rather than here. Kyra smiled, her white teeth bright compared to her tan skin. Her dark blonde hair was done in an elegant up-do. Her dress was white, with a cut down the right side so her muscular leg showed through. The rest of the dress was simple, with a gold belt around the waist and a golden breastplate. On her head she wore a crown of olive branches. As a finishing touch, she wore strappy sandals that went all the way up to her thigh. Her light hazel eyes shined. She looked beautiful, strong, and dignified.

Next to her, Marcus was laughing, having the time of his life. He wore a pure white toga with a red cape slung over his shoulder. His red hair was topped with a wreath of laurel branches. The toga went down to his mid-thighs, and on his knees down to his ankles, he wore silver armor. His arms were covered the same way. In his hand he carried a shield of the same metal. He looked over at Kyra and said something, and she laughed out loud, showing off dimples in her cheeks. Despite his obvious enjoyment and laughter, he had a look of determination in his brown eyes.

_I see promise in these two. Miss Livingston seems to be quite a poised young lady. Don't get me wrong; I also think she looks very capable. Definitely going to be a strong competitor. And Mr. Kingston looks very nice out there too. I love that he is wearing armor. I think this adds a look of fierceness to go along with that sense of boyish humor. I don't quite know how to judge Marcus yet, but I'm not going to dismiss him._

District Three made as much as an impression as the two before it. They were hard to miss! The black horses ran along, pulling behind them a chariot of the same color. This part might seem dull, but this was only to make sure it didn't distract from the tributes. They both wore black, tight-fitting bodysuits… that made their bodies flash like human gigabytes. Small bursts of light flashed all over their bodies. The bluish light illuminated their faces perfectly, so you could see that neither smiled.

Baud and Trillium were standing so close to each other that the flashes of their suits blended together to make them look like one. Their arms were intertwined, and every once in a while, Trillium would look up into Baud's eyes. She seemed to get comfort from this. Still, neither smiled.

Trillium's long black hair had been done into two twisted buns on either side of her head. She wore lots of eye makeup: dramatic eyeliner and smoky gray eye shadow. Her lips were a deep shade of purple. Baud wore very little makeup, but his ashy skin had been darkened by a heavy appliance of foundation. His shaggy black hair had been gelled back, so he wasn't constantly pushing it out of his eyes. They two rode the whole way like this, and their companionship was very evident.

_Seeing these two just makes me want to know what their history is. They aren't related, as far as we know, since they have different last names. Plus, correct me if I'm wrong, but I couldn't see a girl looking at her cousin that way, if you get what I mean! _

_Their costumes are really something! They just scream _Technology_! I mean, I love that flashing! Genius on the stylist's part._

District Four's arrival was no disappointment. Their chariot was a brilliant blue, shining like the sea in the sun – just the way it had on the day of the reapings. Triston and Nixie were both draped in flowing blue silk that gave the illusion of water running over their bodies. Nothing else was on them, just the watery like capes. Their bare feet, no makeup, and barely any jewelry gave off the idea that they were completely natural.

Nixie's lose black curls draped around her shoulders perfectly. Her bright blue eyes shone just like the water she was representing. She waved out at the Capitol citizens calmly, not looking absolutely happy but not looking miserable either. Around her neck, she wore a necklace of seashells, which once in a while she would reach up and touch. The whole effect made her look quite lovely. Compared to Triston, she looked like a child, though as she was only five feet tall and he was almost six feet.

Triston's beautiful waterfall cape distracted from his face, thankfully. He looked awkward and scared, like he wanted to impress the Capitol people but he just didn't know how. Occasionally he would look down at Nixie and try to imitate her graceful waving and smiling, but he would only raise his hand halfway up, so it looked like he was waving at the bottom of his chariot instead of at the crowd. In addition to this, Triston seemed to be having quite a hard time making eye contact with the lavish Capitol citizens, so the whole "smiling at people" tactic wasn't going to well either.

_Don't they look beautiful? I actually thought that they were covered in water at first! Another masterpiece here! I simply can't take my eyes off that girl. And now that I mention Nixie, I just sympathize with her so much. I remember her reaping, actually. It was my first year of commentating. My heartstrings were almost pulled to their limits when she started crying, and then later when her sister got __so close__ to coming home! She looks gorgeous now, though. I wonder how she will do in the Games. And Triston seems to be having a hard time out there. Poor boy._

The crackling of District Five's costumes was heard even before they could be seen. As they rolled out, Estelle and Edison's clothing was emitting bolts of lightning. They didn't seem to be affected by this at all; Estelle's hair was smooth and silky, not even a bit messed up by the static electricity.

Estelle wore a short, white, flowing dress that swished around her knees as the chariot moved along. Lightning seemed to be shooting out from her actual dress. Her hair was pulled halfway back, the pulled back part braided. When cameras zoomed in on her, you could see that it looked like glowing lines of power had been braided into her hair. She wore light pink lipstick and eye shadow – minimal makeup to make her look innocent. Her slim shoulders were held back defiantly, making her look a bit less unnoticeable. She waved a bit, but didn't smile. She kept staring down at her feet and wringing her hands together. It seemed almost painful for her to be in front of so many people.

Edison was having just as hard a time looking confident. His talk, gawky features were made him look huge compared to the petite Estelle even though he was a year younger her. Constantly adjusting his glasses, he was blinking furiously. His asthma seemed to be acting up as it did at the reapings, as he was breathing heavily. His clothing was also white, but the lightning was only coming from his shirt, not his pants. With a sudden burst of courage, he reached down and took Estelle's hand in his. She didn't pull away, but other than going a little pink, she didn't acknowledge it. Together, they shyly waved out at the adoring Capitol citizens.

_Aw! That's just so sweet! I love to see them holding hands like that. And that is really creative, have lightning coming out from their bodies. I wonder how that brilliant stylist did it. I really do. Little Estelle seems to be quite shy, wouldn't you agree? It really looks like she needs to just relax a little bit. Of course, that's easier said than done for some people! Now, I feel like someone should fine dear Edison some better-fitting glasses. The ones he has seem to fall down a lot. I wonder how these two will do in the Arena. I shouldn't rule them out, but they haven't really shown any extraordinary promise._

District Six followed closely behind. The first thing anyone noticed was the way the two tributes were positioned. Thalia was standing next to Peter, as usual, but she had her arms protectively wrapped around his small shoulders. Since she was five years older that Peter, it gave off a big-sister look. Her expression seemed to say, _Just try and hurt this kid. I dare you. _Thalia's blonde hair had been blown out and brushed so it looked a little less thin than usual. Peter's thick glasses had been removed, and he was now squinting out at the crowds even more than he normally did.

Both tributes wore train-conductor getups: pinstriped overalls, red bandana around their necks, big black boots, and brimmed top hats. Both of their faces were covered in soot, as well as the rest of their skin that was showing. There was barely any distinction between their outfits.

Through his apparent discomfort, Peter was smiling out at the crowd happily. His smile changed the whole look of his face from that of a pathetic little child to that of a boy having the time of his life. Once in a while he would turn and smile up at Thalia, but she was too busy staring out stonily at the Capitol to acknowledge it.

_I love the relationship between these two – Thalia just looks like an older sister to him. I'm sure they will become close during this exciting time. It is good that Peter has someone to look after him while he's here, though. As for the costumes, I can't say they were too extraordinary. The train conductor thing has been used before. I have to say, compared to some of the other chariots tonight, definitely not as impressive. I hope, though, that these two will do well. I can see Thalia going far, and I hope that little Peter's age won't restrict his chances._

**Okay, people! I hope you enjoyed the first installment of the Opening Ceremonies. I also hope you liked our commentator, Posy Amberoid. Your opinions on her would be appreciated. I decided to break them up because otherwise it would be too long, so the next chapter will be up very soon, I promise. **

**Until next time**

**Your Head Gamemaker, Alta Brynwill**


	6. Chapter 6

**Greetings Viewers! Welcome back to the 28****th**** annual Opening Ceremonies. **

**So, without further ado, I present to you the District Seven through Twelve tributes!**

District Seven's chariot was made of wood. It definitely made it look a lot less glamorous, but it made the tributes' costumes look a lot better. Like many before them, the tributes were dressed as trees. However, this year there was a bit of a twist. Their bodies were painted in a beautiful, detailed fashion that made their skin look like real bark. Maple was, of course, a maple tree, and Ajax was an oak. Each wore a headdress with braches sticking out in all directions. But instead of the leaves being just the green of summer, the trees had leaves of all seasons. In one section, there were the red leaves of fall; in one, the bare branches of winter; in another, the tiny green buds that popped up in the spring, and finally, the abundant green leaves of summer.

Maple held her head up in confidence, like she didn't doubt herself in the slightest. Sometimes, she would nod her head at the screaming Capitol people, but she did so in a way that said, _I don't agree with this, but I'll go along with your little game. _She looked entirely different than she had at the reapings. Other then being dressed as a tree, someone had done their best to cover up the dark rings around her eyes with a thick coat of makeup. Her brittle brown hair had been shampooed and blown out straight, so it looked more full and healthy. She cheeks were still hollow, but she had obviously been fed a good meal, and that in itself had done a world of did seem to be nervous about one thing though: her partner. Maple stood against the side of the chariot like she was trying to get as far away from Ajax as she could. Every few seconds she would give him a sideways glance, as if she was making sure he was still on the other side of the chariot.

It made perfect sense for Maple to be scared of her partner. Ajax, dressed as an oak tree, looked even more terrifying than he had at the reaping. His different colored eyes stared darkly ahead, like he hated each and every person in the crowd and was plotting a way to murder them. His dark hair was messy, like he hadn't allowed anyone to touch it. Needless to say, he didn't smile or wave.

_Oh, that was a smart idea to represent all the seasons in their costumes! I don't think I've ever seen that before. I like that a lot. _

_Maple Scarsi seems very sure of herself. I admire that in a tribute. It's nice to see one of them from the father out districts so confident. Granted, she isn't too physically promising – not too strong or athletic looking, but who knows? She may surprise us._

_Now, I sure wouldn't want to get in the way of Ajax Ryffs. He gives me the creeps, people! I have a feeling he won't have any trouble participating in the Games. Also, we have to take into consideration the fact that he is a volunteer. He must have his own reasons for this, and I sure can't wait to see what they are._

District Eight finally broke the streak of non-smiling tributes. Trek especially was waving good-naturedly, smiling his dazzling smile, and looking gorgeous as he rode along. He held the thin hand of his partner, Pique, who was grinning shyly and blushing slightly as he held her hand.

Pique's dress was tight fitting in the chest, but poofed out in the skirt, going down to her knees. It looked like someone had taken a patchwork quilt and altered it into a dress. It had squares of cotton, linen, silk, corduroy, polyester, velvet, taffeta, and many other kinds of textiles. On her feet she wore white sandals. Her brown hair was done up in an elegant French twist. Light pink makeup made her features softer, and her full lips were accented with lipstick of the same shade. Looking at her now, so beautiful and graceful, it was hard to believe she was the same terrified, sobbing girl from the reapings only a day before.

Trek too was looking amazing, but this wasn't too different from his usual look. His shining brown eyes were full of life, his smile made him look like there was nowhere else he would rather be, no one he would rather be with, and his tousled brown hair made his glory look effortless. His shirt was of the same patchwork material as Pique's dress, and for bottoms he wore khaki slacks. His dress shoes were shiny black. But he could have been wearing rags and nobody would have cared. The important thing was his handsome looks and amazing charisma. In spite of this, he only had eyes for Pique. Yes, he spent most of his time beaming at the Capitol citizens, but he was always looking at the thin girl next to him, saying something funny to make her laugh whenever she wasn't smiling.

_My, oh my! Trek Donovan is just the definition of handsome, isn't he? He is simply charming. Just so charismatic. I bet the sponsors are just lining up to get a chance to get the rights to him! I would rant about him all day if I could, but I should probably say something about Miss Bales. I do like the patchwork dress; it's a classic District Eight move. Though I can't say it's old. I think it matters on the style of dress, and the full shirt definitely made all the difference. _

_Pique seems like a sweet girl. I like the looks of her. The French twist is quite the improvement on her old style, if I may say. She seems shy. I'm not quite sure what else to say about her, other than that she and Trek would make a lovely couple. Don't you think? He seems to protective of her – the way he's holding her hand! I love it! But yes, I'll have to wait until I see her interview to make my final judgment of Pique. _

District Nine's tributes didn't hold hands, didn't talk to each other, and basically pretended the other wasn't there. The stylist hadn't really done the best job with their outfits, though, and both tributes were looking rather embarrassed about their clothing… which had long stalks of grain attached to it. Not in a good way, like it looked like there was grain growing from their clothing (which would have been really cool), but the stalks of grain were actually sewn onto the cloth. Alora kept pulling at her floor-length light brown gown, and Roman was perpetually trying to straighten his jacket of the same color.

Roman would now and then give a brilliant smile, but then would go back to sulking and semi-making eye contact with the crowd. His smile, just as it had at the reaping, made him look like a different person. His entire face would go from sullen to youthful and happy in a millisecond. But really, he seemed busier being embarrassed about the lousy job his stylist had done at dressing him than at waving at the people who were waiting on the edge of their seats to see him die on TV.

Alora didn't smile either. She was pointedly ignoring her district partner, not making eye contact with the Capitol people, at pulling at her ugly dress. Basically, the District Nine tributes didn't make that much of a good impression.

_Huh. I'm not exactly sure what to say about that performance. At the reapings, I really though these two showed a little bit of promise, but now I'm just hoping they have good training scores and interviews to make up for this. And also, one more thing – shame on the District Nine stylist! These children might have had a much better performance had they been dressed more properly._

Felicity and Angus came out in full, fringy, cow-skin cowboy garb. To go along with this idea, the District Ten chariot was not pulled by horses, but by two large oxen. Neither tribute looked entirely thrilled to be there; Felicity looked timid and Angus looked uncontrollably terrified, but at least Feli was holding her own. She looked like she was having an internal struggle, trying to overcome her shyness with a sudden burst of bravery. In addition to this, she would often look over at Angus understandingly and take his hand, whispering words of comfort that would momentarily make him calm down.

Her brown curls had been braided into two ponytails, and they stuck out under her black cowboy hat. Being so short and skinny, she looked more like she was eight than fourteen. It was evident that futile work had been done to try and hide her two scars, but there had been no luck. They were as prominent as ever. To go with the hat, she wore a cow skin skirt and vest, with a white blouse underneath. As a finishing touch, she wore tall black cowboy boots. Her hat would have covered any makeup, so she wore none.

Angus, on the other hand, was not composed at all. He looked confused and scared of all the people, like he was trying really hard but just couldn't figure out where he was and why so many strange people were staring at him. His outfit, other than the skirt being traded for black pants, was identical to Feli's. The hat seemed to be bothering him quite a bit though, and eventually he took it off and threw it at one of the oxen.

_I think Felicity Troven seems to be a mature, sweet girl by the way she is comforting her… slow partner. I'm not quite sure what is going on with our friend Mr. Northup. He really seems to be having a hard time processing everything, isn't he? Ah, well, I'm sorry to have to say that I don't see him doing very well in the Arena. _

_The cowboy clothes have been done many years before, but I don't really see a problem with that. I think it is a nice, endearing District Ten tradition that should go on for a long time in the future._

District Eleven's tributes were both intimidating in their own way. Tatiana's athletic, tall, strong body was threatening in a way that promised her a fair shot in the Games. Rain's cold hatred and disgust for what seemed like every person in the Capitol made him look scarier than he really was.

Rain was bare chested, his dark skin showing under grape vines that wrapped around his body. He wore denim work pants and no shoes. When he wasn't looking repulsed by the Hunger Games in general, which was rare, he nodded curtly, but refused to wave at anyone. Smiling was out of the question. At one time, Tatiana stepped back and nearly fell off the chariot, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her back in one quick motion. She nodded her thanks, and he politely said something that looked gentlemanly.

Tatiana was dressed in denim overalls similar to Rain's. Grape vines wrapped around her arms and fingers. She too was barefooted, and her long blonde hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail. There was nothing elegant or girly about her clothes, attitude, or behaviors on the chariot. Unlike Rain, she would occasionally wave, but no smiling was going on here either. She did, however, roll her eyes at some of the ridiculous fashions she saw within the crowd.

_Another force not to be messed with. Both Tatiana and Rain seem like they know what they're doing out there. Well, maybe not in the "people skills" department, but I don't think they'll have any trouble surviving in the Arena._

_I like that whole grapevine idea. Very interesting how they are all wrapped around their bodies like a design. _

_Oh, and one more thing before I move on to the final district: Mr. Fields looks like quite the young gentleman! Congratulations to his mother for teaching him such good manners._

District Twelve finished off the event dressed as coal miners. Both Nicolette and Licorich wore black jumpsuits with large headlights on their heads. Their faces were covered in soot. Apparently, though, the stylist hadn't put much thought into the safety part, since Licorich was having a coughing fit from the soot covering his face. His blond hair was now as black as Nicolette's.

Nicolette's beautiful figure and face were covered up by the baggy jumpsuit and thick coating of soot. She still waved sweetly out at the crowd though, like they were all her friends. Her dark eyes lit up whenever she made eye contact with someone like she was thinking, _Hi! It's so nice to meet you! _She held Licorich's hand, and spoke motherly words to him whenever he started to look nervous.

Nervous was an understatement. Licorich still looked like a lost little boy trying to find his mother. His pitiful blue eyes looked up at Nicolette very often, like she was the only person in the world. It made sense for him to have a little puppy love, of course. She was the only person there to care for him, and even now it was evident how much she meant to the little boy.

_Aw! Little Licorich is quite the cutie, isn't he? Oh, I just want to take him home! And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think he might have a little crush on his beautiful district partner. Look at him watch her with his sweet little eyes!_

_It's a shame you can't see Miss Carter's lovely face under that soot. She's a real beauty that one. And so kind! Look at her hold that sweet little boy's hand like that. So nice!_

_Oh look! The president is about to speak! I'll see you soon, citizens of Panem!_

**Okay! Hope you liked the Opening Ceremonies! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Greetings, Viewers! I join you again with glad news of a new stage of this year's games. Our twenty-four tributes have spent the last two days in the training center preparing themselves for the Arena. Normally, this is a private event and no cameras whatsoever are allowed inside, but as an act of generosity, I have granted permission to the camera crews to film the last day of training. Of course, the private sessions will remain just that – private. I have told this to several people, and wanted to make it both official and clear. **

**Your Head Gamemaker**

When the supervisor finished her introduction, the twenty-four tributes slowly began to disperse. Some, such as the Lazuli twins from District One, headed straight for the stations with the deadly weapons like swords and battle-axes. Dazzle immediately picked up a lethal-looking double-bladed boomerang and starting throwing it at targets around the room, swiftly slicing off the heads of dummies and then catching the weapon with ease. Beryl selected a long spear shortly after and also began throwing it at human-shaped targets, piercing the place where the hearts would be every time.

At first, Kyra looked like she wanted to evade the heard of Careers. She started to head over to a survival skills station, but her district partner grabbed her elbow and pulled her over to the weapons table. He seemed to know that she was not one to let get away easily. This being the third day of training, he obviously knew by now what her skills were. After a moment of hesitation, Kyra selected a set of short, sharp throwing knives, took them to the other side of the weapon station, where she threw them at a series of moving targets with deadly accuracy. She didn't notice that Beryl, Dazzle, and Marcus were watching her, discussing amongst themselves her strengths. After a few minutes, they reached a unanimous decision, and each went back to their own weapon; Dazzle to her boomerang, Beryl to his spear, and Marcus to a sword.

Trillium and Baud stuck together the whole time. They moved from station to station, but rarely left each other's side or talked to anyone else. Both seemed to recognize their dire need for survival skills and combat practice alike. For the first half of the session, they practiced starting fires, tying knots, and learning what plants were edible. For the rest of the time, they shakily tried to use weapons. Trillium went for the rack of impressive bow and arrows, but was far off the mark with every shot she took. Baud noticed this and made fun of her playfully, to which she responded with a light punch on the arm and a roll of the eyes. However, this was the first time either had smiled since the reapings. Baud too attempted to test out some weapons. At this time, Baud left Trillium at the bow and arrow station and joined Kyra at the throwing knives. He reached for a short, small, and razor-sharp blade, which he threw with such horrible aim that it looked like he was joking. He shot an embarrassed glance at Kyra, but the girl didn't scoff at his failure. Instead, she smiled and displayed a grip that would help him get a better grip on his blade. Before she could offer any more help, though, Marcus called her over and she answered by going over to him and the Lazulis. However, at several points throughout the three days, Trillium and Baud shot each other looks that made it clear that they had something else up their sleeves that the other tributes didn't know about.

Unlike Trillium and Baud or Beryl and Dazzle, Nixie and Triston were about as far away from each other as they could get. The day before, Nixie had lost her temper and rudely told Triston that he had no chance in the games after a brief attempt at teaching him to throw a trident. He had gone red in the face and spent the rest of training learning how to tie knots and not talking to anyone. Nixie did seem to regret her outburst a little, as she often shot concerned glances at her district partner. During her three days of training, she spent more time trying to evade the Career pack than practicing her skills. She never once showed any interest in joining them – despite their obvious interest in her. She was exceptionally skilled with her trident, hitting the necks of the practice dummies with ease. When she wasn't avoiding the Careers like the plague, she was carelessly throwing her trident around, flirting with Trek Donovan, or befriending the two little boys. She had an apparent soft spot for Peter and Licorich, and even gave them some advice on their combat practice.

Estelle and Edison both avoided the rest of the tributes. They didn't necessarily avoid each other, but they weren't attached at the hip, either. Edison didn't opt for any of the available weapons, but instead went for the survival stations where no people were. Once, he was joined by Kyra Livingston from District Two at the edible plants station, and nearly had an asthma attack. Throughout the rest of training, Kyra futilely tried to stop the other Careers from making fun of him. Despite his apparent weakness and the fact he was being constantly picked on, the thirteen-year-old seemed like he had a solid plan in his mind. The only thing that seemed to be stopping him from carrying it out was that he didn't seem to be able to find whatever he was looking for. So he just bided his time and learned about edible plants. Estelle, on the other hand, slipped into the shadows. At the beginning of the three days, her tendency was to go to a station, closely observe what the other people did, and then, when they left, she would imitate them with surprising skill. In spite of her shyness, she did manage to find a friend other than Edison. (She was still quite protective of her district partner.) Being as they were both very shy, Estelle and Pique Bales from District Eight tended to gravitate towards each other. For the last two days of training, the two girls would quietly slip along to the different stations. Together, they tried the majority of the weapons and both of them were handy with at least a knife. Pique wasn't horrible with a bow and arrow. Each seemed comforted to find a friend who was so similar to themselves.

Thalia Skyware was left alone after Peter had switched companions and now spent his time with Licorich. She spent her training days practicing combat skills and looking cocky. Being thin, blonde, and fairly athletic, she could have blended in with the Careers if she had wanted to, but she showed no interest in that idea. She mostly stuck to herself with a cold arrogance in her step. She was kind of handy with a variety of throwing weapons, especially an axe. However, she never seemed to forget her little district partner. Every ten minutes or so she would glance nervously over at Peter, over at the Careers, and back at Peter like she was afraid they Careers would spontaneously attack him or something. Sometimes, he would return Thalia's glimpse with a shy little grin that said, _Look, I found friend! Don't worry about me. _He genuinely seemed to look like he didn't want Thalia to be worried about him. Then he would go back to playing with a slingshot with Licorich or fooling around with the camouflage paints. Peter didn't really understand the concept that these three days weren't playtime, but in fact they could greatly change his experience in the Arena.

Ajax Ryffs was possibly the only other tribute that the Career pack was afraid of. He would slowly walk over to the knife station and run his fingers over the blades like they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. His different colored eyes flashed darkly when he found a blade he liked, and then he would inspect it closely before throwing it with such force that the blade would whistle through the air before it lodged itself into the dummy's stomach. Other than his creepy obsession with knives, he was creepy towards the other tributes as well. Maple, his unfortunate district partner, got the worst of it. Ajax would stare at her from across the training center with a knife in his hand, with his blue and black eyes focused on her hazel ones. When he did this, Maple looked scared and small, her malnourished body looked more frail and unhealthy than usual. Her hair was again brittle and thin, and the dark circles, now uncovered by makeup, had reappeared. On the third day, she joined Pique and Estelle, who had both noticed Ajax's creepy looks, and welcomed her into their little group with open arms. Maple wasn't as friendly or timid as the other two, but the three of them were attached at the hip from then on. Having other girls their age boosted the morale in all three of them, like having a friend would protect them from their impending fates.

The first day of training, though, Pique was shown the ropes by none other than Trek Donovan. Trek seemed to be good at everything he tried. Not amazing, but he was fairly good at most things. One thing he did excel at, though, was swordplay. The sword looked like an extension of his arm, he looked so comfortable with it. He practiced with the trainer, and beat him within seconds. After that, when he made sure that the Gamemakers had seen him, he continued on to the rest of the stations; threw a few knives, tied some knots – a bit of everything. This was his routine for the next three days. He would start the day with a swordfight, like he wanted to remind the Gamemakers (and his fellow tributes) that he was really good at swordplay. Then he would go to all the other stations in the training center, flirting with every girl he encountered along the way. One other thing he always did was stop in to say hello to Pique. When she, Estelle, and Maple were sitting at their table at lunch, he would come over, squeeze her shoulders, and ask, "How're you doing?" Every time, she would blush and mutter a response, but he would just wink at all three girls and continue on to another table. Pique tried to ignore this, but both of her new friends found it absolutely necessary to leave the two of them alone at a station together at least once in a day. This kind of silly stuff seemed to help at least some of the tributes forget about their upcoming deaths.

Roman and Alora went their separate ways one in the training center. Roman, like many other tributes, went directly to the knife station. (This was a perpetually crowded station, if you haven't noticed.) Unfortunately for him, though, he was really, _really _bad at throwing knives. And swordplay. Also spears, axes, bow and arrows, maces, and any other weapon in the training center. Needless to say, after one day he retreated to the survival skills stations and didn't return to the weapons again – especially since he had received some nasty looks from the Careers that made him feel like they were going to have a good time killing him. Alora, on the other hand, got quite good with her weapon of choice, which was a shiny, sharp, dangerous-looking dagger that resembled a small sword. She never once threw it, but instead practiced stabbing combat dummies. Had they been real people, the cut she made every time would have been so clean and effective she could have easily removed the person's heart with a quick grab. Alora didn't try to make any friends, and showed no interest in formed any type of alliance.

Felicity Troven looked envious whenever she saw Estelle, Maple, and Pique, and probably would have gone over to join their group, but she was too busy assisting Angus with simple things that most other people could do without a second thought. Felicity seemed to be the only person who could calm him down when he got scared – which happened a lot. She would whisper calming words into his ear and make him stop freaking out. Her brown curls cascaded down her back, making her look very beautiful, yet the fact that she was horrifically underfed took away from her good looks. But she would hide her whatever problems she might have in order to comfort her partner. When she wasn't sheltering Angus, Feli did her best to try out some weapons. Like Roman, however, she was absolutely awful at every weapon she tried. She was okay with a slingshot, but she wasn't really too good with that, either. All in all, her utter fail at the use of any weapon and Angus' refusal to do anything other than cower behind Felicity made the District Ten tributes subject to meanness from the Careers. They – Marcus, Dazzle, and Beryl - would stand together and snicker over how badly Feli and Angus were doing in training. Other than the Careers, though, everyone else seemed to pity them. But some also seemed to admire Felicity. In fact, even shy Estelle approached Felicity and said, "I think it's really nice you're helping him so much." Estelle smiled shyly, and Felicity returned it with an equally shy – but grateful – smile. "Thanks," she said. "He's a little slow, but he's really sweet. I just feel so bad for him, you know." After that brief exchange, though, Feli made a mental note to find become allies with Estelle and the other girls in the Arena (that is, if she had the chance). Because, even if she didn't want to admit it, she knew Angus wasn't going to make it far in the Arena.

Tatiana took the first chance she got to try and work her way into the Career pack, and to the surprise of everyone there, they finally accepted her at the very end of the last day. Marcus called her over form the spear-throwing station, and he, Beryl, and Dazzle whispered to her for a while. When they had seemingly gotten their point across, she smiled gratefully and said, "You won't regret it." With that, she walked back over to her spears and pierced a dummy in the heart, looking extremely pleased with herself. She had the same intimidating air to her, and most tended to steer clear of Tatiana Harris. Because, even though she wasn't necessarily with them, she was a Career, and not one to be messed with. Rain, kept to himself, like many of the tributes. But keeping to himself didn't let him go unnoticed, though. Not a single person in the training center missed when he lifted a hundred and fifty pound weight and threw it across the room like it was just a little stone. His tall, muscular build made him hard to miss, and when he smashed a combat dummy to a pulp with a giant mace, he actually brought out a whimper from one of the younger girls somewhere in the training center. Both of the District Eleven tributes had made their impression, no doubt about it.

Licorich genuinely seemed to have a fun three days with his new buddy Peter. No longer did he look like a lost little boy looking for his mother. Now he seemed to be having the time of his life, climbing on the large nets that were designed to be used to test one's agility as if they were his own jungle gym. He never once practiced using a weapon, or learning survival skills – but this might be because he knew, deep down, that he wouldn't be leaving the Arena alive and wanted to enjoy his last few days. Nicolette went along, mainly learning survival skills. She spent an entire day tying knots, and another discovering which plats she could eat and which plants would kill her instantly. Being very beautiful, she attracted the attention of Trek Donovan several times, and every time she would politely accept his compliments and then go to another station. She didn't make any impression on any of the Careers, which was a blessing for her, as they would kill her before she had the chance to smile at them.

**Greetings, Viewers! Normally, Ms. Posy Amberoid would add her splendid commentary, but she had a bit of a family emergency and couldn't be with us tonight. But fear not, she will offer her lovely opinion after each night in the Arena, so we won't be missing out at all, I promise. **

**So, from what you have seen, you can go on to place your bets, do whatever you please. You have seen the tributes' skills (well, maybe not all of them – some might be waiting until the Arena to show us all they have) and the beginnings of alliances. Now, I present you the training scores.**

**Beryl Lazuli: 10**

**Dazzle Lazuli: 11**

**Marcus Kingston: 9**

**Kyra Livingston: 9**

**Baud Digit: 8**

**Trillium Bither: 6**

**Triston Walterson: 4**

**Nixie Monroe: 9**

**Edison Shultz: 9**

**Estelle Caulder: 7**

**Peter Krow: 2**

**Thalia Skyware: 5**

**Ajax Ryffs: 6**

**Maple Scarsi: 5**

**Trek Donovan: 8**

**Pique Bales: 6**

**Roman Moreau: 3**

**Alora Halo: 9**

**Angus Northup: 2**

**Felicity Troven: 3**

**Rain Fields: 11**

**Tatiana Harris: 9**

**Licorich Sweeney: 2**

**Nicolette Carter: 4**


	8. Chapter 8

Hey everyone! I just wanted to say that I am still writing this story; I've just been extremely busy and have had absolutely no time to post anything. So sorry about that! I'll have the next chapter up within the next week! I PROMISE!


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello! To those of you who have found this again after it being deleted, I'm so happy. For those of you who are new, welcome to the 28****th**** Hunger Games!**

**I apologize for the long gap between chapters. I didn't have access to a computer for a few weeks, and then life just kind of got in the way but now we're back in business. **

**Without further ado, I present to you the tribute interviews (part one).**

**Your Head Gamemaker**

Lights dimmed as the first tribute, Dazzle Lazuli, stepped forward to join the new Hunger Games host, Caesar Flickerman. For his first year as host, he was sure making an impression. His hair was dyed a shocking neon green, and his eyelids and lips were coated in the same shade. His dark blue suit was covered in tiny twinkling lights so he looked like he was wearing the night sky.

Dazzle took a seat in a chair next to Caesar's. She wore a long, sophisticated black dress. It angled up at her right side and gathered at her right shoulder. The bottom was a shimmery silver material that sparkled when the bright light hit it. To accent this, she wore black high-heeled shoes that were covered in small jewels and cast off small reflections when she walked. As a finishing touch, her arms were covered by long black gloves. Her hair had been left down and looked almost identical to how it had at the reaping ceremony. Also like the reaping, she wore a stony, expressionless look of malice on her face.

"Dazzle. I must say you really left an impression on me. Such determination!" Caesar paused to dramatically place a hand over his heart. "Could you give me an idea of what was going on in your head that day?" He leaned back, getting ready for a good story.

Dazzle's expression remained blank and cold. "I was thinking that if anyone else volunteered before me, I would strangle them."

Though the Capitol audience gasped in surprise at her response, Caesar merely chuckled, unfazed. "So I'll take it that you have been dreaming about participating in the Games for a long time?"

"Yes."

"And why is that?"

"Because it looks fun."

Caesar laughed a little, trying to dismiss Dazzle's comment as sarcasm. For a moment, he almost looked at a loss for words, but he quickly composed himself. "So, on a different topic, how did you feel when your brother volunteered? It must have been quite the shock!"

Dazzle shot him a "well, duh!" look before saying. "We had agreed that it was my turn this year and that he would wait until next year." The coldness in her voice clearly showed that this was the end of her interview – whether her time was up or not.

"Well, Dazzle, it has certainly been a pleasure to meet you. Best of luck!" She got up and returned to her seat next to her brother.

* * *

Beryl walked forward next. His nicely tailored black tuxedo made him look just as dignified and sophisticated as his sister. His stylish glasses and slicked back hair gave him the look of a man much older than he was. He looked striking. As he walked, he turned out to the audience and gave a jovial wave. When he took his seat, he leaned forward and shook Caesar's hand happily.

"Beryl! So glad to meet you! How are you liking the Capitol so far?"

Beryl leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs nonchalantly. "It's amazing, Caesar. Everything I'd ever imagined. I've been dying to come here my whole life. It's an honor to finally be here."

"Such a well-spoken young man! Well, Beryl, I must ask the question that is eating away at all of us." Beryl nodded like he already knew what the question was. "As you sister said earlier, the two of you had made a bit if a pact, if you will. It seems as if you had agreed to let her volunteer this year, and that you would volunteer next year. What made you change your mind?"

Beryl took a moment to think about his answer before speaking. "Well, Caesar, it was really a spur-of-the-moment thing. I had every intention to go along with my sister's plan, but when she volunteered, I just couldn't let her go off to the big city all alone!" He turned and looked Dazzle then, giving her a little wink. "She is younger than me by a whole hour after all!" This earned a laugh from the crowd. The cameras zoomed in on Dazzle's face, which was shooting daggers at her "big brother."

"Well, my boy, it looks like our time is up. It has been wonderful to talk with you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Sir."

* * *

Kyra looked as confident and beautiful as ever when she approached Caesar. Her long glittery silver dress was stunning, showing off her athletic, fit body. Her hair was blown out and down, cascading down her shoulders in gentle blonde waves. Light makeup accented her natural beauty.

"Don't you look beautiful!" exclaimed Caesar, jumping up to kiss Kyra's hand before she had the chance to sit down. She blushed and said, "That's so kind of you! You look very nice tonight, too." Caesar threw his head back and laughed joyously. "Such a lovely young lady! Shall we sit down?"

"We shall." Kyra and Caesar sat. Kyra crossed her legs daintily and folded her hands in her lap.

"So, Kyra," Caesar began, "tell me: what do you think your chances are in the Games."

Kyra smiled and said, "Getting right to the point, are we? Well, let me see. I think I'll do well. But there are some very well trained tributes here, Caesar. I think we'll just have to see how it all plays out once we get into the Arena. Anything can happen!"

"Very well put, my dear! And so true, too! So, our District One tributes got to bring their families along with them when they came here. Do you have any siblings?"

"I do. I have a big brother named Kyle. I miss him very much." Here she looked into the camera and for a split-second, her eloquence and charm vanished, and a homesick little girl showed through. "I also miss my grandmother," she said in a small voice. But then she regained her composure and was once again the beautiful, confident girl she had just been.

"I deeply regret to have to say this, dear, but our time is up. Thank you for talking with me."

"Thank you! Hopefully I'll be back soon!"

"I sincerely hope so, Kyra!"

* * *

Different from his jaunty attitude on the chariots, Marcus Kingston now sat in the chair next to Caesar with a cold, murderous expression. He wore a short-sleeved button-down shirt, brown slacks, and suspenders. His red hair was tousled, making look notably dressy than the three previous tributes.

"So, Marcus. How would you say your experience in the Capitol has been so far?"

"It's been fine, thanks."

"So, I was looking over some of the past games, and I saw a familiar name in the Games two years ago. You wouldn't, by chance, have been related to a Miss Juno Kingston, would you?"

"She was my cousin."

"Thirteen years old in her Games, wasn't she?"

Marcus seemed to not be enjoying the topic very much, as his eyes were narrowing to slits. "Yes. That was the year District Ten won. She made it to the top three."

"I'm sure that was a proud moment for your family to see her get that far," said Caesar, smiling expectantly. But he was met with a cold glare from his interviewee.

"We're only proud of the ones who win."

Caesar seemed pleased with what he had been given. "And I bet you want to make your District proud, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And, tell me one more thing, Marcus." Marcus settled back in his chair. "Is there anything that you would not do to win the Games?"

"Absolutely nothing."

* * *

The only possible way to describe her was "electric". Her dress, which was a shiny, reflective, metallic black, gathered over her left shoulder, and fitted tightly until it cut off at her mid-calf. She wore black pumps, which she walked gracefully in to her seat. Her deep brown eyes were lined with thick black makeup, making them look much bigger than they really were, and they looked like they were omitting thick grey smoke from all the dark eye shadow she wore. At the age of eighteen, she could have passed for twenty-five. Her stylist had succeeded in making her look exceptionally sophisticated.

She crossed her legs, sitting expectantly, waiting for the questions to begin. Her face was still, not showing any emotion or interest.

"Trillium. You look really lovely tonight, dear."

"Thank you very much," she replied.

"So, tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?"

"Yes. I have a brother, Pix, who's fifteen."

"And are you two close?"

"I guess you could say so. We have very different interests."

"That sounds typical. Sounds like most of the siblings I know!" Caesar chuckled like he'd just said something really funny. Trillium smiled politely.

"So, what about your friends? What are they like?"

"My two best friends are named Noda and Baud. They're very similar –"

Caesar's face brightened. "Whoa! Hold up! Did you say Baud? As in your district partner?" He looked like his day had just been made.

Trillium gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. "Yes. The very same."

"Well. I just don't know what to say. You must have so many emotions going though your head right now, yes?"

"Yes. But no matter what happens, I am so glad to have him here with me."

The audience let out a collective sigh. Caesar smiled warmly. "Now, I must ask one more question. Are you two… You know… A thing?" He winked cheekily.

Trillium rolled her eyes, amused. "No. I can promise you right now that we are not a 'thing'." She turned to face the audience and said, "Sorry to disappoint."

"Well, I must say that you two would make an _adorable_ couple! But I bet you've heard that a million times!"

Trillium smiled good-naturedly, but you could tell that hearing that comment was getting very, very old.

"Now, our time is almost up, so I have one last question for you, my dear," said Caesar. Trillium nodded. "When you get into the arena, will you and Baud be allies, or will you avoid that… er… sticky situation?"

Trillium looked like she wasn't exactly fond of his wording. It was also clear that she had spent a lot of time thinking about this, but wished she didn't have to. She swallowed hard before saying coldly, "We intend to stay together until the very end."

* * *

Caesar skipped all formalities with Baud. As soon as the boy was seated, the questions started coming at him at full force.

"Well, I think I speak for the entire country when I say that I am absolutely _dying_ to know what were your reasons were for volunteering, especially since your district partner would be your best friend!"

Baud leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs in a cocky manner. "You know, it just felt right. It was completely out of the blue, never something I thought I would do. But I just did it, you know?"

"Kind of like a gut feeling?"

"Exactly."

Baud was dressed in a classic black tuxedo, very basic… except for the little bursts of neon green! His bowtie, buttons, and the shoelaces on his black dress shoes were all a shocking shade of neon green. Every now and then he would reach up and brush his hair out of his eyes, since his stylist had decided not to do anything to his messy black hair.

"So, when did you and Trillium become friends? Are we talking childhood playmates or just friends from school?"

Baud smiled a little, and then said, "Well, it's kind of an embarrassing story."

"All the better!" Caesar urged.

"Okay then." Baud quickly looked back at Trillium, who looked like she was trying not to laugh, but blushing at the same time.

"Well, basically, in the first grade, I approached Trill and her friend Noda. It happened to be Valentine's Day, and see, and I had wanted to give Trillium a card because I thought she had very pretty hair. But when I got to her, I realized that I had forgotten the card at home. I then got very angry with myself and stormed away." Baud paused, obviously feeling very stupid telling the story of his first grade crush on national television. But Caesar eagerly encouraged him on.

"So basically, Trill felt bad and came over to me at my desk. She gave me a card and told me that she thought I had nice hair too. I don't really know what happened from there, but we started to play together and stuff and we've been best friends ever since. I know, its kind of a stupid story…"

But the Capitol audience disagreed. They applauded with great force, and Caesar leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, it was worth it, wasn't it?"

"She was worth it."

"Now, forgive me, but it seems that the whole 'not a couple' thing might be a little one sided. Maybe you still have some feelings for the girl with the pretty hair?" Caesar raised an eyebrow.

Baud looked beyond uncomfortable. "You never know, Caesar. Sometimes these things are just confusing. But I can clarify one thing: Trillium and I are most definitely_ not _a couple."

**Expect Part two very soon! I promise this time.**


	10. Chapter 10

**And now for the second installment of tribute interviews!**

**I'm watching The Hunger Games as I write this**

**Oh, and one other thing. Just because a tribute has a longer or shorter interview, it doesn't mean they are any more or less of a significant character. Some tributes can just make an impression in a shorter amount of time.**

Nixie Monroe walked onstage with confidence and poise. She looked like a princess in a blue iridescent ball gown that shimmered in the bright lights of the stage. Her black curls fell down her back, with the front bangs pulled back into a French braid that wrapped around her head like a crown. She wore crystal high heels that peeked slightly out from the hem of her dress. Around her neck she wore the same seashell necklace she'd been wearing at the Opening Ceremony. Light blue glittery eye shadow gave made her look even more like a mermaid. Her stylist was clearly trying to keep up the innocent sea girl theme.

As she sat down on her chair next to Caesar, her dress poofed out all around her. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for her first question.

"Nixie, my dear, you look just stunning. Just lovely."

"Thank you so much, Sir," said Nixie.

"Oh, no need for formalities. Please, dear, call me Caesar."

"Okay, Caesar." Nixie smiled slightly. She looked a lot younger than seventeen in the way that she tucked her hair behind her ears and repeatedly looked shyly into the cameras. Every minute or so she would reach up and touch her necklace; as if to make sure it was still there.

"Now, I have a question for you."

"Please ask it."

"Your necklace is beautiful. Please tell us where you got it, dear." He leaned forward in anticipation.

"Oh, this." She touched her necklace. "It belonged to my big sister, River. She gave it to me just before she left for her Games."

"Oh yes! Yes. I'm so sorry, I can't believe I forgot!" He looked thoroughly embarrassed at his mistake.

"That's okay, really."

"She was your age, correct?"

"My age exactly." It looked like it pained her to even think about her sister, much less speak about her in front of the whole country.

"If she were here, what would you want to say to her?"

Nixie swallowed. "I would say that I love her. And then I would say a bunch of things that none of you would understand because you had to be there to think it was funny." Her voice cracked. She tried to pretend she wasn't wiping away a tear.

* * *

Triston's entrance was altogether less impressive. His dark blue suit, though it made his blue eyes look even bluer than their usual deep blue hew, didn't hold a candle to his district partner's shimmering blue ball gown. His shoulders slouched as she walked to his spot, and his dress shoes made his feet look to big for the rest of him

The first few questions were answered with one words (and syllable) responses. Yes, no, and fine dominated the vocabulary Triston used. He seemed just miserable, unable to relax in front a camera. It wasn't until Caesar asked about his friends did he utter his first full sentence.

"My best friend's name is Arista."

"Lovely name! And how long have you known this girl?"

"Grade school."

Triston then retreated back into his shell of silence. Caesar's elaborately worded questions were met by one - or two - word sentences. Soon his two minutes were up, but before he went back to his seat, he licked his lips and wiped sweaty palms on the pants of his blue suit.

"I just wanted to say that just because I haven't had proper training doesn't mean that I can't win. So don't count me out quite yet."

* * *

Petite and slender as she was, Estelle Caulder seemed to surpass the look of fourteen as she walked up to the chair. Her white dress was elegant and feminine, perfectly fitting her sweet personality. Fitted around the chest, the lace dress ended at her knee, but on one side a long train flowed along side her. Her straight brown hair fell in a sheet around her shoulders, as opposed to her usual ponytail. With an innocent, light coating of makeup, she looked nothing like the wallflower she normally was. The quiet, shy girl had been transformed into an absolute beauty.

Estelle blushed when the audience "oohed" and "ahhed". Tucking her hair behind her ears, she sat down and crossed her legs at the ankles. Her face grew redder and redder as she realized exactly how many people were looking at her.

"Estelle, you look just stunning. Just stunning," said Caesar.

"Thanks."

"Do you like your dress?"

"I guess." She folded her hands and stared down into her lap.

"You guess?"

She mumbled something that no one could understand.

"I'm sorry, dear, what was that?"

"I said it's kind of girly."

Caesar threw his head back and laughed loudly like she'd just said something really funny. Estelle blushed even more.

"So, why don't you tell us about your family, dear?"

"My family?"

"Yes. What are they like?"

She looked skeptical, but relented. "Well, there's my mom and dad, and then my siblings are Jasper, Willow, Wesley, me, Chester, Lucinda, Lily, Zander, Konrad, and Khole." She smiled like, yeah, I know.

"Well! It must be busy in the morning around the Caulder household!"

"A little bit. And we only have one bathroom," she said, smiling shyly as the audience laughed.

"How old are all of your siblings?"

She sighed and said, "Okay. Jasper is twenty-two, Willow's seventeen, Wesley's sixteen, um, I'm fourteen, Chester's ten, Lucinda and Lily are twins and they're nine, Zander's eight, and Konrad and Khole are twins and they're five."

"How do you remember all of that?" cried Caesar with a look of mock bewilderment.

She looked down at her lap again and shrugged, smiling a little bit.

"Well, my congratulations on your memorization skills! Now, on a different note, I couldn't miss the fact that you seem to be involved in the making of a new alliance, is this correct?"

"Well, I wouldn't necessarily call it an alliance. But, Pique from District Eight and Maple from District Seven and I were spending a lot of time together in training."

"Once you get into the Arena do you think you'll stick together?"

And, at the mention of the Arena, Estelle resumed her shy, all too reserved manner, and her time was up.

* * *

"So, Edison, what do you think your strategy will be once you get into that Arena tomorrow?"

Edison fidgeted in his canary yellow tuxedo and blinked a few times before responding with a shaky, "Um, I don't really know yet." At thirteen, he was tall enough to pass for about sixteen or seventeen.

"Well, what do you think your main advantage will be? What are you really good at?"

"I don't know, I'm, uh, not really good at sports."

"Oh, but that's where you're mistaken, my boy. Victors often win because of their intelligence; their ability to outthink their opponents. Athleticism is not always the key component of winning the Games."

"Yeah, I guess so." Edison pushed his glasses up his nose.

"So, what were your impressions of the Capitol? What has the best part been?"

"Um, I don't really know. It's fine I guess."

"No, really, what was your favorite part?"

The look on Edison's face showed just how uncomfortable he was on stage. His comfort zone was obviously not in front of many people.

"Um, my escort is really nice."

"Isn't that nice! What's your escort's name, son?"

"Kellna."

Cameras instantly zoomed in on the District Five escort's face. Her eyes were filled with tears, but it was unclear whether or not they were from happiness.

"Well, Edison, I wish you the best of luck tomorrow."

"Thanks." He shoved his glassed up his nose and walked hurriedly back to his seat with his head down, tripping over his feet as he went.

* * *

Thalia walked out on stage in a low cut, red sparkly dress with her blonde hair flowing down her back. Thick black eyeliner and sparkly gold eye shadow made her brown eyes stand out. She wore dark red lipstick and black six inch high heels. There was no question of what her mentor wanted her angle to be.

"Now, please tell me, Thalia, and I now I use this question far too often, but please tell me, what will your strategy be once you get into the Arena tomorrow?"

She smiled slyly. "Oh, well, Caesar, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise. I wouldn't want to reveal my plans to everyone here." She looked pointedly back at her fellow tributes.

"Ah, you're a smart once, aren't you? I like that!"

"I try," she said.

"So, we don't even get a tiny hint? Not even a little?"

"Sorry, Caesar, my lips are sealed."

He slapped his knee, imitating deep frustration.

"Oh, well. So, my dear, tell us about your life. Who is Thalia Skyware?"

Thalia smiled and flipped her long blonde hair. "Well, Caesar, Thalia Skyware is a girl from District Six. She has three older brothers, Lucas, Zachary, and Laser. She also has a mother who is six months pregnant with her stepfather's child. She is smart, if she does say so herself," here Thalia paused, knowing she would receive some recognition for this last comment. "And Thalia Skyware is a girl who is ready to play and win the Hunger Games."

The audience roared, thrilled with Thalia and her unique confidence.

"My, my! I think those other tributes should keep an eye out for you! You play to win, don't you?"

"Why else would I play, Caesar?"

"Good point! I should have thought of that! Now, I do want to add one other thing."

"Shoot."

"I just wanted to say that you are very kind to your district partner, Peter. He must be very nervous."

Thalia smiled at the thought of her little district partner. "He's just a kid. I'm just trying to keep him safe."

"Well, I hope to see you back very soon, Miss Skyware."

"Oh, you will Caesar. That I can promise you."

* * *

Peter was the complete opposite of Thalia. No method of comparison could relate the two. While Thalia was simply radiating confidence, Peter looked on the brink of tears. His dark blue suit was nothing special, and there was nothing else to make him look at all impressive. His eyes were still hidden behind the same thick glasses he had been wearing at the Reaping. And while other tributes had managed to look older than they really were, he managed to look several years younger. Like a child who had lost his mother.

"Hello, Peter," said Caesar. He too got the sense that Peter was only a little kid.

"Hi."

"You seem nervous."

"Yeah."

Caesar again did the thing where he pretended that the tribute had said something really funny. He reached over and clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"Well, at least we can be honest with each other!"

"Uh-huh."

"So, do you feel prepared for tomorrow?"

"You mean when we get in the Arena?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Then, no. I'm not."

"Well, that's not what I like to hear. What you need is _confidence_, my boy! Confidence is key!"

"Okay." Peter glanced out into the crowd, but turned away in horror as soon as he made eye contact with a member of the audience.

"You know what, son?"

"What?"

"I think you're going to do wonderfully."

"So do I! Just because I'm not prepared doesn't mean I'm not going to do well!" He rolled his eyes, as if that should have been obvious.

**Stay tuned! The next installment will be up soon!**


	11. Chapter 11

**We're halfway there! Bear with me, people! I know it's taken me forever, but we're almost to the good stuff!**

Maple's dress resembled the tree for which she was named. The crinkly chiffon was a medley of all the autumn colors, making her look like a maple tree in the fall. Her hair, though her history of perpetual hunger had permanently damaged it, was less brittle than it had looked at training. Her stylist had managed to cover up the dark circles under her eyes with a thick coating of makeup.

She took her seat next to Caesar, but had a cold and suspicious air to her. She kept sending hateful looks in the direction of the audience of Capitol citizens.

Caesar asked her all the normal questions. The most impressive part of the Capitol was, in her opinion, the buildings. Her strategy was to form an alliance and try to outlast everyone else. But what really made everyone remember Maple Scarsi was her story about her sister.

"Do you have any siblings, Maple?"

"Yes, I do. I have two brothers and a sister. Verne, Warren, and Violet. They're all married and they all have kids. I have seven nephews and my sister is expecting another baby very soon."

"Isn't that lovely!" He looked directly into the cameras and said, "Congratulations to the Scarsi family of District Seven!"

"And do you want to know what Violet said when she came to say goodbye to me?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Well, she said that she was almost positive that the baby was a girl. Then she said that she was going to name the baby after me."

Caesar sat back in his chair. "That's wonderful, Maple! You must be so proud!"

"Forgive me for saying this, Caesar, but I'd be a lot more excited if I had any hope of ever meeting the baby."

And for the first time, Caesar Flickerman was at a loss for words.

* * *

Even Caesar Flickerman was afraid of Ajax Ryffs, even if he didn't necessarily show it. He was dressed in all black, down to his tie. There was a certain way that he sat in his seat, eyes narrowed with his jaw set, that made him just seem scary.

"So, Ajax," Caesar said, "you're the first volunteer District Seven has had in a long time. Can you tell us a little bit about that choice?"

"I've always killed things. And the only difference between the Games is that I'd be killing humans, and I don't care about that."

Caesar nodded, trying not to look scared of his interview subject. "And how did your family feel about your choice?"

"I haven't had a family in years."

"And what about your friends? What did they say when they came to say goodbye?"

"I don't have any friends. Just some simple acquaintances."

"Interesting," said Caesar. "And what do you think is your main strength that will help you in the Games?" Caesar was simply trying to get this interview done with as soon as he could.

"Psychological strength. I could give you nightmare for the rest of your life."

"I'll keep that in mind!" Caesar laughed tightly.

"And what is your strategy, as of now?"

"To keep to the shadows."

* * *

Pique took tiny steps out onto the stage; unsure of herself in the high heels her stylist had put her in. Her dress was a light shade of purple, with beautiful, detailed embroidery making intricate designs all over it. It poofed out around her waist and ended just below her knee. Her brown hair that normally stuck out in random places had been washed, brushed, and styled into a beautiful wave of brown hair. She had light purple eye shadow the exact color of her dress and light pink lipstick. And even though she looked beautiful, it was hard to miss how sickly thin she was.

"Good evening, my dear," said Caesar, cordially.

"Good evening." She smiled timidly, brown eyes wide as she took in her surroundings.

"How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm doing okay, Sir."

"I do hope you've been made at home here in the Capitol!"

"Yes, people have been very kind, thank you."

"So, tell us, what are your impressions of your fellow tributes?"

"Um," she looked behind her at the other tributes, "well, some of them are really good at fighting and stuff. I think they'll be the ones I should watch out for when we get in the Arena."

"Yes, I think I might know exactly who you're talking about! But you did receive a seven in training, so maybe your fellow tributes should be keeping an eye out for you, too!"

"I guess so."

"So, I think we were all very touched when we saw your Reaping. Were those your sisters?"

"Yes. The little one was Faille and the older one was Heather." Her voice cracked and suddenly she was on the verge of tears. Some of the other tributes (Careers) in the background sniggered at her weakness. But Pique quickly composed herself.

"So, Pique, are Heather and Faille your only siblings."

"No, I have seven. I'm the second oldest."

"You're kidding! Your mother must be a busy woman!"

"Yes, she was."

At her tone of voice, and the fact that she said "was", Caesar didn't push the subject of her mother. "So, what are your other siblings' names?"

She took a deep breath and said quickly, "Heather, Corduroy, Calico, Batiste, Faille, Paisley, and Argyle."

"And, is there anything you'd like to say to them?"

"No. I already said goodbye."

* * *

The jaw of every woman in the Capitol dropped at the sight of Trek Donovan. He managed to look shockingly gorgeous in a simple black suit and white shirt; the coat unbuttoned as well as the first few buttons of his silk shirt.

His brown hair was gelled back and his brown eyes sparkled as he grinned out into the audience while taking his seat. He reached over and jauntily shook Caesar's hand. Then he leaned back and casually crossed his legs, ready to completely win over the entire country.

"So, Trek, are you prepared for tomorrow?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be!" He got a laugh from the female portion of the crowd. "But yes, I think I'll do well."

"And would you like to tell us some of your strengths that you think will help you in the Arena?"

"Well, believe it or not, Caesar, I'm pretty good with a sword."

"Really?" Caesar seemed surprised, not having expected this from a District Eight tribute.

"Yeah, I took it up a few years ago just as a pastime, you know? Who knew it might come in handy?"

"Well, that is certainly an advantage for you!"

"I'd say so!"

"So, a handsome boy like you must have a special someone back at home! Who is it, boy? We want details!"

"Well, Caesar, I actually do not have a girlfriend at the time."

A collective gasp from the women of the Capitol arose. Trek threw back his head and laughed. "No, I'm a single man as of now."

"Well, if I do say so, I think that comes as a bit of a relief to the female viewers!"  
Trek laughed once again. But, out of the eyes of the cameras after his time was up and he was back in his seat, he looked over at Pique and winked. She blushed.

* * *

"So, Alora, you surprised us all with a _nine_ in training! Congratulations, I might add!" Alora, in a shiny black dress and high heels, smiled graciously and accepted his congratulations. "Is there anything you think we, or your fellow tributes, should know about you before you go into the Arena tomorrow?"

"Actually, yes. I think that you should know that just because I'm from District Nine doesn't mean I can't be a main player in these Games. Don't count me out."

"Didn't even cross my mind!"

"Good."

"So, I was looking over some past reapings the other day and I noticed something," said Caesar.

"And what's that?"

"I realized that this is not your first time being reaped, my dear."

"That's true. I was reaped when I was thirteen, but another girl volunteered. I guess the odds aren't exactly in my favor are they?"

"Well, maybe you were just meant to play the Games!"

"That's one way to look at it."

"Now," Caesar began, "who was it that volunteered for you?"

"My best friend's sister."

"I'm sure you want to make her memory proud, don't you, Alora?"

"Absolutely. I will not allow her to have died in vain."

"So are you prepared for tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

"I admire your confidence. Best of luck to you, Alora Halo!"

"Luck has nothing to do with these Games, Caesar. But thank you anyway."

* * *

In terms of confidence, Roman and Alora made quite the pair. Though he wasn't dressed very fancy, a white button down shirt with beige slacks and a black tie, and the fact that he was a fourteen-year-old from District Nine, Roman carried himself as if he were Beryl Lazuli from District One. He seemed to have no doubt that he was an equal contender in the Games, and this was evident even before he opened his mind. He wasn't cocky, or arrogant, he was simply sure of himself.

"Good evening, Roman," said Caesar.

"Good evening. How are you?"

Caesar looked delighted. "My, my! I like that! No one asks the interviewer how he is! I'm doing just wonderfully, thank you very much!"

Roman grinned, but said nothing.

"I've admired your composure from the moment your name was called at the Reaping. How do you manage to stay so calm?"

"Well, I just take it one step at a time, Caesar. I know it's all going to be okay in the end. And I have a little sister to get back to, so I really need to win these Games."

"How sweet! How old is your sister?"

"Julia is seven."

"I'm sure she's very proud of you!"

"I sure hope so." Then he turned to the cameras. "Okay, Jules, you saw me. Now go to bed!" The crowd laughed, and Caesar said, "Now, now, Roman! Isn't that your mother's job?"

"I'm afraid I've had to take over the whole 'mom' thing over the past year. Our mother passed away last year."

"I'm so sorry. My condolences, son."

"Thank you." Roman's face had become closed off.

"Well, I see now that you do have a job to take over. I do hope you are able to get back to your sister."  
"I do too. And believe me, I'll do whatever it takes." He turned to the cameras again. "Whatever it takes, Jules. I promise."

**Yay! Only one left! Hope you liked it! Leave a review**


	12. Chapter 12

**And now I am pleased to present the final segment of tribute interviews. **

Her stylist's efforts were obvious. She had on too much makeup and an overly flashy dress. It gave off the feeling that her stylist didn't think she was even slightly pretty. Her dress, which was tight fitting and long covered in shiny black feathers. Felicity's long curly brown hair had been straightened and cut. The only recognizable features were her unhealthy thinness and, of course, the twin parallel scars on her left cheek.

And she looked like she was about to cry.

Before she sat down, she made a final, desperate pull at her dress in an attempt to make it less... big. When this attempt failed, she had to resort to crossing her legs in an exceptionally awkward fashion.

"Good evening, dear! I barely recognized you!" said Caesar. Surprisingly, he looked just as enthusiastic on his nineteenth interview as he had on his first interview.

"Yeah, me neither." And she looked genuinely serious when she said it. And not in a good way.

"Now, _please_ don't take this the wrong way, but I couldn't help but notice the scars on your cheek. They don't hurt, do they?"

She reached up self-consciously and touched her cheek. "Um, I don't know if I should really talk about it."

"Oh, come on! You can tell me!"

"No, I really don't think that I can. Can you please ask me a different question now?" she said forcefully.

"If you say so! So, what is the biggest difference between your home in District Ten and here in the Capitol?"

"Um, pretty much everything, I guess."

"But, what's the first thing you noticed?"

"Um, I guess that you can get food at the push of a button. You can't do that where I'm from. Believe me, you have it really lucky."

"Now, one last question. Do you feel prepared for tomorrow?"

Here she paused and took a deep, impatient breath.

"Caesar, no matter what any of these kids tell you, there's no way any of us could be truly ready to go in there."

* * *

For the first time in twenty-eight years of Hunger Games history, a tribute didn't make an appearance for an interview. Despite the arguably forceful (even harsh) measures taken to try and get him to take the stage, Angus Northup refused to do his interview. When his time came, Angus started to cry and rock back and forward in his chair. No amount of persuasion or even comfort from Felicity could get him to do his interview. So, after ten minutes of Hunger Games officials trying to get him to take his seat next to Caesar, it was decided that it wasn't worth it, and they moved on to District Eleven.

* * *

"Now, Tatiana, you are probably the first female volunteer from District Eleven ever! What inspired you to make that choice?"

"Well, Caesar, I'm going to make an observation. At least 75% of the victors in my lifetime have been from one of the Career districts. I can't remember anyone from my district winning. Ever. You know why? Because no one ever has. And I'm here to change that."

Tatiana Harris looked pretty in a short navy blue dress, her hair done up in an intricate hairdo of many small braids gathered into a bun. Her ballet flats were made completely out of diamonds.

"I'm sure your District is very proud of you. And you want to make them proud, don't you?"

"Nope. I'm here to put my home to shame. Of course I want to make them proud." It was as if sarcasm was seeping from her pores. Caesar looked taken aback at her snarky comment.

"So, what did your family say when they came to say goodbye?"

"The usual. You know, in District Eleven, families aren't real hopeful of ever actually seeing their kid alive again, so, believe it or not, my parents weren't thrilled."

"So, what do you think will be your greatest asset for the Arena?"

"Well, there's the fact that most of the other kids here are idiots. Its always a bonus to be the only one with a higher than average IQ."

Caesar laughed. "And, to go along with your intelligence, do you have any special skills."

"Nope," she said with more sarcasm than the first time. "I volunteered without any combat skills whatsoever. Of course I have special skills, but do you really think I'm going to say them in front of all the other tributes?"

And her time was up.

* * *

Tatiana had been intimidating in her own loud, sarcastic way, and Rain carried on the impression that the volunteers from District Eleven were not to be messed with. With his bulking size and towering height, he looked like he could be a Career, but his distaste for all the people in the room and all their beliefs and principals was evident in his omnipresent scowl.

"So, your district partner volunteered to bring honor to your home. I'm assuming that was your reasoning as well?"

"No."

"No?"

"Nope."

"Would you like to tell us why you volunteered?"

"No."

"Please?"

"My cousin got reaped, and his wife is about to have their kid, so I took his place."

"That was very honorable of you. Are you and your cousin close?"

"He's my best friend. I was the best man at his wedding."

"I can see why you would volunteer for him. What was your cousin's name again?"

"Caleb."

"So, will you tell us what you think will be your best asset in the Games?"

"No."

"But do you think you're prepared?"

"Yes."

* * *

Nicolette Carter was easily beautiful. She didn't need a team of stylists to work on her; she was just naturally stunning. And in her long red open backed dress, she was drop dead gorgeous. Her long black hair was loosely flowing down her back, and even without makeup her face was flawless.

"My goodness! You look just beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

Nicolette blushed at Caesar's compliments as she sat down and crossed her legs politely. "Thank you very much."

"So, what is the most impressive part of the Capitol, in your opinion?"

"Oh, I don't know! It's a very beautiful city. Maybe all the bright colors."

"I've always liked that too! And what is the biggest difference between here and District Twelve?"

"Um, pretty much everything! I can't pick just one!"

"Well, I won't ask you to, then! And, one last question, do you like the Capitol so far?"

"Oh, yes, Caesar, very much! I'm glad I got to see it."

"I'm very glad to hear that."

She smiled a pretty smile and recrossed her legs.

"So, do you feel prepared for the Arena?"

"Well, I think that I'm prepared, but I'm pretty nervous!"

"Oh, I think that's okay! Don't you think so?" As he said this, he turned out the audience and they shouted in agreement.

"And, do you think you're going to do well, Sweetie?"

"Oh, I don't really know. I've got some serious competition, Caesar!"

"I think that you can take them down!"

"If you say so! I'm going to try really hard."

* * *

Even though he was the last tribute to be interviewed, Licorich Sweeney still made an entrance. His stylist had made the poor decision of putting him in an orange tuxedo with blue buttons and a blue bowtie. And though it might be assumed that being dressed like this would horribly embarrass him, the twelve-year-old seemed to really be enjoying his colorful outfit.

"So, have you enjoyed your time in the Capitol, Son?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's been okay." Licorich started playing with his bowtie, not acknowledging the fact that he was on live television.

"What was the most impressive thing you've seen since you've gotten here?"

"There was a woman whose hair was all the colors of the rainbow. And other woman with purple skin. And a man whose skin looked like a lizard's. That was really cool."

Caesar threw his head back and laughed out loud. The audience laughed too, and the cameras focused in on a blushing woman with rainbow hair.

"So, maybe you'll be kinder than some of your other fellow tributes, and maybe give us a sneak peak of what we might see out of you in the arena?" Caesar looked hopeful, like a kid begging his mother to tell him what he was getting for his birthday.

"Yeah, sure. I'm gonna get a sword and kill a bunch of people with it. I think I'm gonna win."

**And there you have it, people! I hope you enjoyed the final segment of interviews.**

**Reviews would be cool. I'd be interested to hear which tributes are your favorites and whom you think is going to win.**

**Also, as some of you know, this was originally an SYOT with A LOT more followers. So, tell your friends about this story! I'd love to try and get back all the readers that were here before it got deleted!**

**Your Head Gamemaker**


	13. Chapter 13

**60**

**50**

**40**

**30**

The tributes all stood on their designated platforms, taking in their surroundings. There was a perfectly blue, clear sky. There was not a single cloud to be seen. They were all standing in the middle of a huge island, in the middle of a crystal clear blue ocean. The twenty-four tributes were positioned in a circle with the gleaming Cornucopia right in the middle. The island wasn't large, and all of it was sand. But going out in all directions from this island were small strips of sand, connecting the island to other islands, all of these thick with green vegetation. There were six other islands, all considerably large. Each had enough trees to form shelter and hiding places for all the tributes.

The tributes were all dressed lightly to accommodate the tropical weather. The boys all had identical blue swim trunks and no shirts. The girls' outfits were very similar. They all had on blue swim shorts and matching short-sleeve surf shirts. They looked like they were going to the beach, not fighting to the death. They also looked prepared to go swimming – an activity that very few of the tributes knew how to do.

**20**

About fifty feet away from the island with the Cornucopia, there was the largest island of them all. On it was a full tropical jungle, rich with wildlife and thick foliage. There was no knowing what treasures or death traps waited there. And there was no way to find out unless you knew how to swim… or were smart enough to find another way to get there.

**10**

The Cornucopia looked to be solid gold. The tropical sunlight glinted off of it, enough to hurt the eyes of anyone who looked right at the shining metal. But that wasn't a problem; all the tributes were too busy either looking at each other or at the bounty of weapons and survival equipment spilling out of the Cornucopia. For some, it was like Christmas. For others, the abundance of objects that could possibly make the difference between their life or death made the whole situation so grippingly real that it hit them like a punch in the stomach.

Among the assortment of weapons were spears, swords, daggers, axes, maces, bows and arrows, a trident, a boomerang with blades on either side, and what looked like a hundred different kinds of knives. There were also shields, nets, whips, coils of wire, and an assortment of oddly shaped bottles and flasks at the very back of the pile. Along with these, there was a bunch of packaged food scattered around the place, an assortment of backpacks no doubt filled with survival tools, and bottles of water.

**9**

Beryl and Dazzle were looking at each other, communicating with their eyes in a way only twins can so that none of the other tributes could pick up on their plans. And plans they obviously had. There was no doubt they knew what they were doing. It also seemed that they had abandoned their previous fight and were ready to fight to the death together.

Kyra and Marcus were both staring straight ahead. Kyra was kind of staring anywhere but the weapon pile, but Marcus was focusing in on a particularly lethal-looking sword.

Trillium and Baud were looking at each other, too, but not in a way that gave off the impression that they had a rock-solid strategy forming. It actually looked quite the opposite. Baud seemed to be trying to calm Trillium down. The poor girl looked like she was about to cry. Her cool, calm, and composed barrier had broken down, leaving a girl who didn't want to die. But after a few second, she had collected herself, and braced herself for a fight.

**8**

Nixie was trying to avoid the eye contact of Marcus, who evidently still wanted her to join the pack of Careers. Triston was studying the big island off in the distance.

Estelle was biting her lip, looking back and forth from Edison to Pique. Edison was having an asthma attack and focusing on the bottles at the back of the weapon pile.

Thalia looked like she was having a hard time trying to decide whether she wanted to flee to safety on one of the other islands or attempt to go into what she knew would be a dangerous, bloody, but necessary fight. Peter was watching Thalia, waiting for her signal, waiting for her to lead him into battle.

**7**

Ajax looked excited, smiling to himself as he stood on his metal plate. Maple was looking at the clear blue water with a worried expression on her face.

Trek was looking only at Pique, and when the two made eye contact, he gave her an all too reassuring wink, which she responded to with a sad smile.

Roman was looking at nowhere in particular, preparing himself to carry out a carefully thought out plan. Alora was crouched over in a position ready to run for an island she lad already selected to be her hiding place.

**6**

Felicity was staring at the sand and water and palm trees with a look of pure awe on her face. She almost reached down to touch the sand, but stopped herself just before she was blown to bits. Then she looked over at her district partner with a look of sad sympathy. Angus was rocking back and forth on his heels, whimpering to himself and crying.

Tatiana had wiped any trace of emotion of her face and replaced it with a look of steely intensity. Rain did the same.

Licorich was slowly rotating in circles, taking in the shock that was the ocean. The beauty of his surroundings had blinded him to what was really happening. Nicolette was keeping a close eye on him, trying to get his attention but failing.

**5**

The citizens of the Capitol glued their eyes to their television screens in excitement and anticipation.

**4**

The citizens of the districts of Panem glued their eyes to their television screens because it was like a car crash that you can't look away from no matter how much you want to.

**3**

The friends and families of the twenty-four tributes braced themselves for the worst and hoped for the best that could come out of this situation.

**2**

The tributes held their breath.

**1**

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Twenty-Eighth Hunger Games!

* * *

The cannon boomed, and the tributes all leapt from their platforms. Beryl and Dazzle were the fastest, the first to reach the weapons. Beryl got his hands on a spear, and Dazzle got her bladed boomerang, along with a knife each. And they were off. Dazzle threw her boomerang with lethal strength and it went flying in the direction of where Angus stood motionless, crying and looking around in bewilderment. The boomerang slit his throat and he fell to the ground, dead.

Kyra had gotten hold of two knives, and started to run in the direction of a different island when Marcus grabbed her arm. He had a sword, which he held to her neck and said, "Stay or die. You pick." She reluctantly pulled her arm away and ran back toward the Cornucopia with him.

Alora had grabbed a backpack and was off to her island. No one saw her leave. She was safe for now. Estelle, Pique, and Maple had also run off, but not so quickly. When Felicity tore her eyes away from the broken body of her district partner, she saw them running off, and she followed them – but not without running to grab a backpack of supplies first. This slowed her down enough so that Dazzle spotted her running away. Dazzle threw her boomerang, pleased to be obliterating a whole district on her own. But she'd been cocky, and her throw was off. Though she missed any place that would have been fatal to Felicity, she did hit her arm. Instantly the exposed skin that had been cut started to bleed. Felicity cried out, but continued running, knowing that the island and the potential alliance that waited there was her only hope.

Nixie got ahold of her trident. She was about to run off with it, but she failed to check who was following her. Mid-step the girl fell forward, facedown on the sand. Marcus' sword had run her through. As he stepped forward to retrieve it, he called back to Beryl, "She should have taken us up on our offer!" Beryl laughed.

Baud and Trillium had grabbed a backpack and ran for an island. They too were safe for now.

Thalia had decided to run into the thick of things, but she probably wouldn't have if she had known that Peter was going to follow her. Beryl picked up a small, deadly knife and threw it straight at Thalia. She didn't see this. Peter did. In the last second, he threw himself in front of the knife that was going to hit Thalia in the back. It lodged itself into his neck and he crumpled to the ground. Thalia then whirled around and cried out a wail of despair, sinking down to her knees. In the background, Dazzle laughed out loud at Thalia's "weakness". Then, with a look of murder in her eyes, Thalia stood up, walking over to Beryl with sheer hatred. He laughed and spread his arms out, invited her to come at him. She ran at him and punched him in the nose. Blood gushing down his nose, he only looked slightly irritated. He hit her back, and while she was off guard, he put his spear through her heart.

While this was going on, Trek Donovan had grabbed a sword and run off in the direction Pique had gone in. He too was safe for now.

Nicolette had gotten the attention of Licorich. They were running off in the direction of another island when suddenly, like Nixie, Nicolette fell to the ground. A deep cut went traced just along her shoulder blade, and it was bleeding heavily. Licorich stopped short, kneeling down carefully. He gently rolled his district partner onto her back. She winced feebly at the motion, and looked right into Licorich's eyes. "Run! They'll get you too if you don't run _now! Go!"_ Then her eyes fluttered shut, and Licorich gasped, covering his mouth in shocked horror. His eyes filled with tears. Then her final words sank in and he jumped up and ran off to the island before Dazzle could slice him too, looking over his shoulder at her as he went.

Tatiana had joined the Career group and had a knife in each hand. She had a stone hard expression on her face. And when Roman tried to sneak around the back of the Cornucopia and grab a sword, she was the only one to see him. She chucked her knife and it lodged itself between his shoulder blades. Roman crumpled to the ground.

No one saw Ajax disappear. No one knew where he went.

Rain ran off to an island no one else had gone to get, with both a backpack and a knife someone had tried to throw in his possession. He had also gotten hold of the mace. He was safe for now.

Edison was hiding just within the trees of an island waiting for the Careers to leave so he could get his secret weapons. Who knew how much damage some chemicals could do in the hands of someone as smart as Edison?

Triston was just reaching the shore of the big island in the middle of the ocean. His quiet strokes had gone unnoticed, and he had swum all the way there in a matter of seconds. He would be safe for a while.

Then the cannons started to boom.

* * *

_That night, after the anthem played, the faces in the sky were the following:_

_Nixie Monroe, 17 (District 4)_

_Peter Krow, 12 (District 6)_

_Thalia Skyware, 17 (District 6)_

_Roman Moreau, 14 (District 9)_

_Angus Northup, 14 (District 10)_

_Nicolette Carter, 16 (District 12)_


End file.
